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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


{• 

T  ^ 

(p.  ^ 


AGNES. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  "IDA  MAY." 


"  Lightly  thou  say'st  that  woman's  love  is  false  i 
The  thought  is  falser  far ; 
For  some  of  them  are  true  as  martyrs'  legends,  - 
As  full  of  suffering  faith,  of  burning  love, 
Of  high  devotion,  worthier  heaven  than  earth  I 
O,  I  do  know  a  tale  1 " 

*H~. '      /C. 


BOSTON: 
PHILLIPS,    SAMPSON   &   COMPANY, 


13   WINTEB,    STBEET. 

1858. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1857,  by 

PHILLIPS,  SAMPSON  &  CO., 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


B»cr»otyj«d   fry 
HOBARI    ft    BOBBINS, 

BOSTOB. 


PS 


AGNES. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE   VALLEY    FARM. 

THE  summer  tempest  had  been  severe,  but  short ;  and  the 
thunder  having  ceased  and  the  wind  lulled,  the  rain  fell  stead 
ily  in  large,  heavy  drops,  brightened  now  and  then  by  sun 
shine,  which,  darting  from  behind  the  edges  of  retiring  clouds, 
threw  a  sudden  glory  over  the  landscape.  The  bird-song  and 
the  insect-hum  were  hushed,  for  the  myriads  of  happy  creatures 
that  fill  the  forest  had  crept  for  shelter  beneath  broad  leaves 
or  thick-spreading  branches,  and  not  the  faintest  breeze  stirred 
the  tree-tops ;  but  all  the  air  was  full  of  a  low,  musical  mur 
mur,  —  a  perfect  accord  of  harmony,  given  out  by  the  vibra 
tion  of  differently  shaped  leaves,  as  the  rain-drops  struck 
them. 

In  the  heart  of  the  forest,  where  vines,  weaving  together 
the  boughs  of  a  bosky  dell,  had  kept  the  ground  dry  notwith 
standing  the  previous  shower,  a  young  man  stood  listening  to 
this  music  of  nature,  so  rarely  heard  because  lost  in  other 
sounds,  —  so  faint,  and  yet  so  exquisite  that,  once  known,  it 
must  be  ever  remembered  with  a  thrill  of  delight.  He  leaned 


6  AGNES. 

upon  his  gun,  and  at  his  feet  a  net  filled  with  birds  and  a 
dozen  brook-trout  strung  on  an  alder-twig  told  what  had 
brought  him  so  far  away  from  the  abode  of  man.  As  the 
symphony  to  which  he  listened  ceased,  to  be  succeeded  by  the 
noisier  music  of  the  birds,  and  the  babbling  of  a  rill  leaping 
down  the  hillside  over  the  bed  it  had  long  left  dry,  he  raised 
his  spoils  from  the  ground,  and  took  his  way  homeward.  He 
walked  rapidly,  with  a  firm  and  springing  step,  and  a  free 
play  of  the  muscles  denoting  activity,  and  the  strength  of  one 
accustomed  to  fatigue.  His  coarse,  homespun  dress,  the 
hunting-shirt  tied  loosely  at  the  throat  with  a  bit  of  black 
ribbon,  and  girded  around  the  waist  with  a  strip  of  plain  blue 
woollen  fabric,  rather  heightened  than  concealed  the  fine  pro 
portions  of  his  figure,  and  the  charm  of  a  face  which,  though 
not  handsome,  was  attractive.  The  dark  eyes  beamed  with 
intellect,  and  the  lines  about  the  mouth  had  a  certain  quiet 
power,  denoting  at  once  firmness  and  gentleness  of  character. 
Though  there  was  apparently  no  path  to  guide  him,  he  went 
on  with  a  readiness  indicating  his  familiarity  with  the  locali 
ties  over  which  he  passed ;  and  four  miles  of  this  swift  walk 
ing  brought  him  to  a  clearing  through  which  ran  a  road, 
rough,  indeed,  yet  bearing  the  marks  of  recent  travel.  As 
he  emerged  into  the  circular  space,  overgrown  with  bushes, 
and  spotted  with  charred  stumps,  he  paused  to  rest ;  and  at 
that  moment  an  arrow  came  whizzing  through  the  air,  and 
quivered  as  it  stuck  deep  in  the  tree  just  above  his  head. 
He  started,  and,  raising  his  gun,  pointed  it  in  the  direction 
from  whence  this  hostile  messenger  came;  but  his  purpose 


THE     VALLEY     FARM.  7 

was  checked  by  a  low  laugh  whose  tones  he  recognized,  and 
at  a  little  distance  the  bushes,  parting,  disclosed  the  face  of  a 
young  Indian  girl. 

She  stood,  half  leaning  forward,  one  arm  extended  to  keep 
back  the  boughs  that  had  concealed  her,  the  other  hand  grasp 
ing  her  bow  lightly,  her  dark  face  flushed  and  dimpling  all 
over  with  smiles,  her  dress  of  bright  calico  contrasting  vividly 
with  the  dense  foliage  surrounding  her.  It  was  a  gorgeous  pic 
ture,  set  in  a  frame  of  carved  and  glittering  enamel ;  and  the 
young  man's  features  relaxed  into  a  smile  of  admiration  as  he 
slowly  lowered  his  gun.  But  still,  as  she  came  bounding 
towards  him,  he  said,  seriously,  and  with  a  reproving  air, 

"  You  should  not  do  so,  Lawontica.  Suppose  I  had  shot 
you  in  return  for  the  trick  ?  " 

"  Ha  !  ha !  sartin  Indian  girl  frighten  him  bad !  "  was  all 
the  reply  the  wild  creature  returned  to  this  address ;  and  she 
laughed  and  laughed,  till  the  woods  rang  with  a  merry  echo, 
and  her  companion  was  compelled  to  join  her  mirth. 

"  But,  indeed,  you  should  not  do  so,"  he  repeated,  when 
she  became  more  quiet.  "  You  expose  yourself  to  danger. 
How  could  I  know  but  an  enemy  was  hidden  in  the  bush  ?  " 

"  Sartin  enemy  no  shoot  tree ;  enemy  shoot  there"  she 
answered,  touching  her  finger  lightly  to  his  breast. 

"  True,  Lawontica ;   but  he  might  have  mistaken  his  aim." 

"  Indian  no  mistake  !  "  she  said,  frowning  with  a  jealous 
air.  "White  man  make  mistake,  —  Indian  no  shoot  but  once, 

—  and  then ."  With  the  tips  of  her  dusky  fingers  she 

seized  a  lock  of  hair  on  the  top  of  her  head,  and  describing  a 


8  AGNES. 

circle  around  it  to  imitate  the  operation  of  scalping,  looked 
archly  in  his  face,  and  again  burst  into  a  gleeful  laugh. 

"  And  you  admire  that  sort  of  chivalry,  you  young  bar 
barian  !  "  said  Percy  Grey,  half  aloud,  charmed  to  forget  the 
savage  idea  in  the  airy  grace  and  lightness  of  every  move 
ment  by  which  she  expressed  it.  Then,  recollecting  himself, 
he  added, 

"Are  you  going  home  now?  Come  along  with  me,  and 
eat  supper  at  the  Farm.  Fortunately  I  shall  be  able  to  sup 
ply  the  table  with  something  eatable,  and  I  must  not  linger 
any  longer.  I  would  have  given  a  good  sum  last  night 
for  the  game  I  have  here."  As  he  spoke  he  held  up  the  birds 
to  her  view,  and  his  countenance  became  sad  and  stern,  as  if 
unpleasant  recollections  had  been  excited. 

His  companion  noticed  it,  and  replied,  eagerly,  with  a  cor 
responding  change  of  manner,  "  Sanoso,  all  day  he  hunt,  he 
fish,  —  no  catch  'em  anything.  Dark  come,  Sanoso,  one  mile, 
two  mile,  three  mile  away.  No  reach  'em  wigwam  till  many 
stars  come  out.  No  eat  'em  supper,  no  drink  'em  anything, 
'cause  she  no  hab  'em  anything  give  white  man.  S'pose  In 
dian  women  no  hab  'em  hand  full,  Indian  women  no  come  see 
Sagamow  any  more." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Lawontica.  I  did  not  suppose  you 
knew  of  our  misfortune.  But  we  shall  not  need  that  you 
and  poor  old  Sanoso  should  tire  yourselves  hunting  for  our 
benefit." 

"  Indian  girl  see  all,  hear  all.      White  brave  bad  —  bad,'' 


TUB    VALLEY      FAB  SI.  9 

she  repeated,  stamping  her  foot  with  a  gesture  of  intense 
indignation. 

"  No  doubt  about  that,"  replied  Percy  Grey,  arranging  his 
gun  and  fishing-rod  upon  his  shoulder ;  "  but  we  have  some 
thing  to  eat  to-night,  and  if  you  will  come  you  shall  be 
welcome." 

"  No,  no  !  Lawontica's  mouth  makes  one.  S'pose  me  go? 
—  no.  Me  work  'um  hard  all  day  peelum  little  Moskevee  * 
bark,  mend  canoe,  so  me  go  fishing  tomollor.t  Now  me  go 
shoot  'um  bird,  make  old  Sanoso  say,  ve'y  good." 

"  Good-by,  then,"  replied  Percy ;  and  after  an  arch  ges 
ture,  menacing  him  again  with  her  arrow,  Lawontica  turned 
from  him,  and  he  went  on  his  way  up  the  hill.  From  its 
brow  he  saw,  in  the  valley  beneath,  the  small,  low  farm-house 
which  he  called  his  home. 

Its  unpainted  shingles  wore  the  dark-brown  hue  of  age, 
and  except  two  noble  elms  standing  on  either  side,  and  droop 
ing  their  arms  protectingly  over  the  humble  roof,  there  was 
little  about  it  of  beauty  or  grace.  Behind  it  lay  the  farm, 
stretching  away  from  the  road  along  the  rich  soil  of  the  valley 
and  up  the  hillside ;  but,  instead  of  the  harvest  that  should 
now  have  been  waving  and  ripening  in  the  golden  sunset  light, 
the  fields  presented  only  a  broken  surface,  with  their  cereal 
treasures  trampled  into  dust,  while  a  blackened  ruin  a  few 
rods  from  the  house  alone  indicated  where  a  barn  had  stood. 

The  clear  glow  of  exercise  gave  place  to  a  darker  flush  on 

*  Birch. 

t  The  Indians  could  not  sound  the  letter  r  before  the  vowels  o  and  f  • 


10  AGNES. 

Percy  Grey's  cheek  as  he  marked  this  devastation.  But  the 
execration  arising  to  his  lips  was  arrested  when  he  looked 
towards  the  house,  and  saw  several  horses  tied  to  the  fence 
near,  while  a  carriage  stood  in  the  road  before  it.  Hurrying 
on,  he  saw  that  an  accident  had  occurred  which  a  servant  was 
engaged  in  repairing.  His  father,  a  tall,  white-haired  old 
man,  came  out  of  the  house  as  he  approached,  and  upon 
meeting  him  said, 

"  Got  back  in  good  season,  Percy.  Been  lucky,  an't  ye  ? 
"VVe  've  been  havin'  a  master  shower;  why  did  n't  you  get  wet?  " 

"I  thought  I  wouldn't,"  replied  the  son,  smiling;  "but 
who  are  these  men  ?  " 

"  Some  travellers  come  in  out  o'  the  way  o'  the  rain.  They 
got  upsot  comin'  down  the  hill.  Ye  see  the  hosses  is  skeery, 
and  it  makes  it  bad  —  master.  The  young  woman  is  afraid 
to  start  again,  for  fear  the  storm  an't  over." 

"  There  is  a  lady  in  the  case,  then,"  said  Percy.  "  Where 
is  she?" 

"  In  the  house,  in  the  foredoom.  Mother 's  been  trying  to 
get  'em  to  wait  a  while  and  have  tea,  and  they  could  go  on 
arter  the  moon  rises." 

"  Your  hospitality  would  be  rather  meagre,  thanks  to  the 
last  guests  who  entertained  themselves  at  your  expense." 

"  Don't  speak  on 't !  "  replied  the  old  man,  with  a  groan. 

"  "Well,  we  '11  have  supper  to-night,  if  we  starve  to-mor 
row,"  said  Percy,  and  was  passing  on  to  the  house,  when, 
with  a  start  of  surprise,  he  added,  "  But  who  have  we  here? 
—  Jem,  my  fine  fellow,  how  are  you  ?  " 


THE     VALLEY      FARM.  11 

The  person  thus  addressed  was  just  rising  from  his  stooping 
posture,  revealing  the  sunburnt  face  and  awkward  proportions 
of  an  overgrown  country  boy  of  eighteen.  The  coarse  features 
were  now  irradiated  by  a  smile  of  pleasure  at  being  remem 
bered,  and,  with  a  familiar  bow,  he  said, 

"  I  know'd  yer  the  minute  I  see'd  yer.  How  come  yer 
here?" 

But  Percy  held  out  his  hand  to  receive  a  hearty  shake  from 
the  rustic,  and  asked,  in  his  turn, 

"  How  came  you  here  ?  How  are  all  the  family  at  Chester 
Close?" 

"They  an't  to  Chester  Close  at  all,  now.  "We're  all  a 
raovin'  down  to  York ;  for  we  hear  tell  the  Injuns  was  a 
comin',  and  they  're  wus  'n  the  Yankee  sogers  to  have  for  vis 
itors,"  replied  Jem,  with  a  sly  grin.  Then,  with  a  knowing 
wink,  he  added,  "  The  Squire  's  in  the  house  now,  and  she  's 
with  him." 

Percy  started,  colored,  and,  turning  abruptly  away,  entered 
the  house  with  an  eager  step.  As  he  deposited  his  game  in 
the  kitchen  cupboard,  where  the  empty  shelves  gave  it  ample 
space,  he  looked  through  the  open  doors  into  the  "  fore-room." 

The  strangers  stood  together  by  one  of  the  windows,  watch 
ing  the  clouds  which  still  lowered  along  the  horizon,  threaten 
ing  to  return  as  soon  as  the  sun  was  set.  Two  gentlemen 
were  with  the  lady  of  whom  the  lad  had  spoken.  The  elder 
seemed  about  sixty  years  of  age.  His  figure  was  tall  and 
stooping ;  the  expression  of  his  features  disclosed  more  of 
oenevolence  and  kindly  feeling  than  of  force  or  steadiness  of 


12  AGNES. 

character,  while  the  thoughtful  glance  of  his  calm  blue  eyes, 
and  his  unassuming  air,  told  that  his  life  had  been  little  min 
gled  with  the  momentous  and  exciting  events  of  his  time. 

His  companion  was  a  man  in  the  prime  of  life,  whose 
handsome  face  and  commanding  mien  at  once  attracted  the 
attention  which  his  haughty  lip  and  cold  glance  as  quickly 
repelled.  Yet  that  glance  warmed  and  softened  as  it  rested 
on  the  face  now  half  turned  from  him,  as  the  lady  addressed 
her  father. 

"  Had  we  not  better  wait  till  we  are  sure  the  storm  will 
not  return  ?  These  good  people  seem  quite  willing  to  give  us 
shelter  ;  and  if  our  horses  were  BO  terrified  in  the  daytime, 
they  would  be  still  more  unmanageable  in  the  darkness.  The 
roads  are  very  bad,  too.  I  confess  I  would  rather  avoid  the 
peril,  though  you  know  I  am  not  easily  frightened." 

"  The  moon  rises  about  nine  o'clock,  and  then  I  think  the 
sky  will  clear,  even  if  the  clouds  do  not  disperse  before  that,'1 
replied  Mr.  Chester.  "  Still,  if  you  are  afraid,  Evelyn,  we 
can  wait,  although,  in  the  present  unsettled  state  of  the  coun 
try,  it  seems  to  me  far  better  to  improve  every  hour  in 
hastening  our  journey." 

"  There  has  been  no  trouble  thus  far,"  said  Evelyn,  hesi 
tating  between  her  fears  and  her  desire  to  yield  to  her  father's 
wishes.  "Do  you  know,  madam,  if  there  have  been  any 
troops  along  this  road  within  a  few  days  ?  "  she  added,  ad 
dressing  an  old  lady  who  sat  knitting  at  the  chimney-corner, 
—  her  invariable  place,  whether  the  space  beside  her  was 


T  II  E     V  A  L  I,  E  Y      F  A  K  M  .          v  13 

heaped  with  blazing  logs  in  winter,  or  dressed  with  hemlock 
boughs  for  summer. 

The  placid  face  beneath  the  snowy  muslin  cap  changed  with 
an  expression  of  strong  feeling,  and  her  voice-  trembled  a 
little,  as  she  answered,  "  Some  of  the  British  king's  soldiers 
passed  here  last  week;  and  if  thee  looks  out  the  window,  thee 
will  see  their  work." 

"  These  barren  fields !  I  wondered  to  see  them.  How  could 
any  one  be  so  cruel !  "  Evelyn  exclaimed,  glancing  around 
the  humble  apartment  with  its  inoffensive  occupant,  and 
then  at  her  companions  for  an  expression  of  the  sympathy 
she  felt  so  strongly.  But  her  father  only  murmured  some 
thing  in  an  under  tone,  and  the  younger  man  said,  carelessly, 
in  a  low  voice, 

"  These  are  the  chances  of  war.  I  presume  these  good 
folks  are  rebels  ;  and  if  so " 

"  Surely,  you  cannot  justify  such  wanton  destruction ! " 
interrupted  Evelyn,  warmly.  "  What  had  these  two  old 
people  to  do  with  the  war  ?  " 

"  They  may  have  a  dozen  sons  in  it,  for  aught  we  know," 

"he  replied ;  "  and  if  not,  it  is  impossible  to  help  these  things  ; 

so  pray  unbend  your  beautiful  brows,  Miss  Evelyn,  and  don't 

take  this  case  so  much  to  heart.     These  are  necessary  evils." 

The  compliment  was  ill-timed,  and  could  not  efface  the  im 
pression  his  words  had  made.  Evelyn  turned  from  him  with 
out  replying;  but  the  old  lady,  who  overheard  the  last  remark, 
said,  "Thee  is  right,  though  thee  doesn't  mean  it.  It  is 
necessary.  Thy  king's  soldiers  might  succeed  better  in  the  war 
2 


14  AGNES. 

if  our  sons  had  not  seen  their  fields  destroyed,  and  their  barns 
burnt,  before  they  left  home.  Flesh  and  blood  will  burn  to 
revenge  such  wrongs,  though  the  Lord  has  said,  '  Vengeance 
is  mine.' " 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  Col.  Stanley,  for  such  was  the  rank  of 
her  interlocutor;  "but  by  your  speech  you  should  be  a 
Quaker,  and  how  is  it  you  are  advocating  war  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  thee  knows,  by  thy  own  experience,  that  our 
carnal  natures  are  weak,"  answered  she,  a  tinge  of  sarcasm 
mingling  with  her  quiet  tone. 

Amused  at  this  retort,  he  was  about  to  reply,  when  his 
attention  was  arrested  by  seeing  Evelyn  suddenly  color  vio 
lently,  and,  with  a  slight  exclamation,  lean  forward  a  little  to 
look  earnestly  through  the  doorway.  In  an  instant  she 
recovered  herself;  but  Col.  Stanley's  eyes  followed  the  direc 
tion  of  hers,  and,  perceiving  he  was  noticed,  Percy  Grey  came 
forward.  A  mingled  expression  flitted  over  Mr.  Chester's 
face  as  he  saw  him. 

"  Major  Grey  !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  which  intimated 
that  his  surprise  was  not  altogether  unpleasant ;  and  then  he 
drew  back,  just  touching  the  proffered  hand,  and  added,  with* 
cold  courtesy,  "  I  am  quite  surprised  to  meet  you  here,  sir. 
I  supposed  you  otherwise  occupied  than  your  hunting  dress 
would  indicate." 

Major  Grey  replied  in  an  embarrassed  tone,  and  his  natural 
ease  of  manner  seemed  to  have  deserted  him.  "  I  little 
thought  to  find  you  here,  Mr.  Chester,  —  and  Miss  Evelyn, 
too,"  he  said,  taking  the  small  hand  that  fluttered  in  his  for 


THE     VALLEY     FARM.  15 

an  instant.  "  I  hope,"  he  added,  hastily,  "  that  nothing 
unpleasant  has  driven  you  from  your  quiet  retreat  in  the 
country." 

"  No ;  we  have  lived  there  unmolested  until  now ;  but  it 
seemed  advisable  to  secure  a  fortified  retreat  for  the  winter, 
as  there  are  reports  that  the  Indians  may  make  some  trouble, 
even  if  we  have  no  more  civilized  foes.  Then,  too,  my 
daughter  may  fancy  the  gayety  of  New  York  as  an  agreeable 
contrast  to  our  country  solitude ;  and  if  this  glimpse  of  the 
world  gives  her  a  curiosity  to  see  more,  we  shall  probably  go 
to  England  in  the  spring." 

Major  Grey  did  not  answer  for  a  moment.  He  knew  the 
motive  for  this  free  disclosure  of  their  plans,  and  his  eyes 
sought  Evetyn's  with  a  timid  eagerness  unlike  their  usual 
clear  and  piercing  light.  She,  after  their  constrained  greet 
ing,  had  withdrawn  herself  a  little,  and  turned  away  her 
beautiful  face  with  an  air  of  reserve.  This  might  entirely 
have  prevented  any  further  intercourse  between  them,  had 
not  Col.  Stanley  remarked,  in  a  sneering  whisper,  addressed  to 
her, 

"Major  Grey!  —  Pray,  who  is  this  major  in  homespun?" 

The  words  reached  the  ear  they  were  intended  to  wound, 
and,  as  Evelyn  remarked  it,  indignant  at  the  rudeness,  she 
replied, 

"  He  is  a  brave  and  honorable  man.  We  had  the  pleasure 
of  forming  an  acquaintance  with  him  last  summer.  Shall  I 
introduce  you  ?  " 

"  If  Miss  Chester  calls  him  brave  and  honorable,  I  cannot 


16  A  G  N  E  9  . 

object."  replied  he,  bowing  gallantly,  and  speaking  in  the 
same  under  tone,  as  if  unconscious  that  he  was  overheard  ; 
"  but  would  not  such  a  man  find  himself  somewhat  out  of  his 
sphere  in  the  Yankee  army  ?  " 

"  '  A  man 's  a  man  for  a'  that,' "  she  replied,  lightly, 
blushing  to  see  the  gleam  which  shone  from  Percy's  dark 
eyes  as  he  heard  her  vindication ;  and,  anxious  to  prevent 
any  further  conversation  of  this  kind,  she  hastened  to  intro 
duce  Major  Grey  to  Col.  Stanley.  The  latter  bowed  haughtily, 
and  did  not  join  in  the  general  conversation  that  ensued, 
and  which  she,  with  woman's  tact,  contrived  to  make  easy, 
notwithstanding  the  secret  embarrassment  of  each  person. 

A  short  time  after,  Jem  came  into  the  room  to  say  that  the 
broken  axle  was  mended,  and  to  request  Mr.  Chester's  inspec 
tion  of  his  work ;  and  the  latter,  with  a  forgetfulness  at  that 
time  unaccountable  to  his  daughter,  asked  Col.  Stanley  to 
accompany  him.  They  went  out  together,  and,  as  old  Mrs. 
Grey  had  previously  left  the  room,  Percy  was  alone  with  the 
being  he  loved  more  than  his  life.  He  knew  it  was  but  for 
a  moment,  and  seized  it  eagerly.  Drawing  nearer  to  the 
open  window  where  she  stood,  he  laid  his  hand  on  hers,  which 
trembled,  but  was  not  withdrawn  from  its  resting-place  on  the 
window-sill,  and,  in  a  tone  he  vainly  struggled  to  make  firm, 
"Miss  Chester — Evelyn,"  he  said,  "we  meet  once  more! 
Say,  must  there  still  be  silence  between  us  ?  May  I  not  write 
to  you? — may  I  not  hope  at  length  to  prevail — to  break 
down  the  barriers  which  divide  us?  You  tremble — you 
turn  away  your  head.  0,  Evelyn,  is  there  no  hope?  " 


THE     VALLEY     FARM.  .          1? 

"Alas,  I  fear  not,"  she  said,  faintly.  "I  have  even 
regretted  that  I  ever  acknowledged  my  feelings  towards 
you." 

"  Nay,  would  you  take  away  my  life  ? "  he  interrupted, 
passionately. 

"But  you  would  not  then  have  fed  yourself  with  vain 
hopes,"  she  answered,  sadly ;  "  you  would  have  learned,  per 
haps,  to  forget  me,  and  to  be  content." 

«  Evelyn !  " 

Tears  gathered  slowly,  welling  over  from  the  dark,  lustrous 
eyes,  and  the  curved  lips  quivered  and  grew  white  with 
emotion. 

"  Forgive  me  if  I  have  wounded  you !  However  it  may 
be,  whatever  other  feeling  we  may  each  cherish  till  life  shall 
end,  I  feel  persuaded  it  is  vain  folly  to  persist  in  hope.  My 
father's  prejudices  seem  more  obstinate  than  ever,  and  the 
very  bravery  that  is  beginning  to  make  your  name  distin 
guished  even  among  brave  men,  is  a  growing  obstacle  to  our 
union,  since  you  are  in  the  ranks  they  presume  to  call 
<  rebel.' " 

"  You  cannot  discourage  me,"  Percy  answered,  pressing  her 
hand  ;  "  my  heart  is  like  Pandora's  box  —  hope  will  remain 
in  the  bottom  of  it ;  and  all  the  train  of  evil  doubts  and  fears ' 
which  accompanied  hope  have  flown  out,  and  are  dispersed  in 
air,  now  I  have  seen  you  once  more,  and  read  in  your  eyes,  in 
your  voice,  in  your  whole  manner,  that  your  heart  is  un 
changed.  I  will  conquer  yet,  Evelyn.  You  shall  be  mine  !  " 

Engrossed  with  each  other,  they  had  for  a  moment  forgotten 


that  doors  and  windows  were  open,  and  their  tete-a-tete  liable 
to  be  interrupted,  and  each  started  in  violent  confusion  when 
a  hand  was  laid  on  Percy's  shoulder.  Mr.  Chester,  with  a 
frown  upon  his  brow,  looked  at  him  steadily  for  a  moment, 
and  then  said,  in  a  voice  whose  strangely-mingled  tones  would 
have  impressed  his  hearers  with  a  feeling  of  curiosity  had 
they  been  less  painfully  excited, 

"  Cannot  I  leave  you  a  moment  alone,  Evelyn  ?  Is  it  thus 
you  abuse  my  trust,  young  man?  Look  at  yourself —  look  at 
the  state  to  which  your  home  is  reduced  in  consequence  of 
your  foolish  adherence  to  a  failing  cause,  and  then  look  at 
the  lady  by  your  side,  and  tell  me  if  you  can  think  you  have 
any  right  to  say  what  you  have  said  to  her." 

Percy  Grey's  face  grew  dark  with  the  crimson  flood  that 
surged  upward  from  his  throbbing  heart ;  his  eyes  fell ;  and 
as  he  remembered  his  poverty,  his  humble  home,  the  darkness 
enveloping  his  future  prospects  and  the  cause  with  which  he 
had  identified  himself,  a  quick  revulsion  of  feeling  made  him 
wonder  at  his  own  boldness,  and  he  was  ready  to  give  up  the 
hope  he  had  so  confidently  vaunted  a  moment  before. 

But  he  looked  up,  he  met  Evelyn's  gaze,  and,  raising 
himself  proudly,  answered,  with  sudden  courage,  "  Yes,  sir,  I 
have  that  right.  I  love  her,  and  I  will  yet  make  a  name  of 
which  she  shall  be  proud  !  " 

Mr.  Chester  smiled,  it  might  be  with  disdain,  it  might  be 
with  pleasure,  for  the  smile  was  blindly  expressive.  "  Valiant 
youth,"  he  said,  "  it  is  a  pity  you  have  espoused  the  wrong 
side  of  this  contest.  With  so  much  courage,  you  might  sue- 


THE     VALLEY      FARM.  •        19 

ceed  under  other  circumstances.  Can  nothing  change  your 
purposes  ?  Such  changes  are  daily  made,  and  I  have  interest 
which  would  procure  you  rapid  promotion  in  the  British 
army." 

Astonished  at  the  audacious  words  so  coolly  uttered,  for  a 
moment  Major  Grey  remained  dumb ;  and  then,  unwilling  to 
quarrel  with  Evelyn's  father,  he  only  said,  "  I  think  I  must 
misunderstand  you,  sir." 

"  Can  nothing  tempt  you  to  go  where  rank  and  riches 
might  be  yours  —  nothing  —  not  even  hope  ?  "  continued  Mr. 
Chester,  with  emphasis  on  the  last  word,  and  a  glance  full  of 
meaning  towards  Evelyn. 

"  Mr.  Chester,  you  insult  me,  and  you  heap  double  dishonor 
upon  me  by  insulting  your  daughter  also !  Can  you  really 
suppose  what  your  words  seem  to  imply  ?  "  exclaimed  Percy, 
white  with  anger. 

Mr.  Chester  did  not  seem  to  heed  his  wrath.  Either  he 
was  in  haste  to  depart,  or  he  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to 
protract  the  conversation ;  for,  after  another  of  the  strange 
scrutinizing  glances  he  had  repeatedly  cast  upon  the  young 
faces  before  him  during  this  brief  interview,  he  turned  away 
and  walked  towards  the  door.  To  Evelyn,  who  stood  by, 
mute  and  distressed  beyond  measure,  he  said,  "  Come,  child, 
the  carriage  waits  only  for  you." 

Bewildered  with  excitement  and  mortification,  she  obeyed 
mechanically  ;  but  her  name  uttered  in  a  tone  of  passion  and 
despair  recalled  her  senses,  and,  turning  back,  she  took 


20  AGNES. 

Percy's  outstretched   hand.     He  pressed  hers   to  his  lips, 
His  face  was  full  of  anguish. 

"  Forgive  him !  "  said  Evelyn,  hastily ;  "  I  don't  know  what 
made  him  speak  so ;  I  never  saw  him  appear  as  he  has  to 
day.  I  know  he  does  respect  you,  though  he  dared  speak  to 
you  of  dishonor.  Forgive  him,  Percy,  for  my  sake !  " 

But  the  proud  spirit  struggled  still.  "  For  your  sake ! 
—  yes,  anything  else,"  he  exclaimed,  "  but  this !  He  has  in 
sulted  us  both ;  surely  we  are  no  longer  bound  to  regard  his 
wishes.  Evelyn,  I  must  see  you  —  I  must  write  to  you  — 
this  parting  is  not  final." 

'    "  Come,  Evelyn,  come,"  called  her  father  from  the  door,  in 
an  authoritative  tone. 

"  I  must  go,  Percy,  and  I  do  not  think  we  shall  ever  meet 
again  —  surely  not  for  a  long  time ;  but  there  is  something 
stronger,  nobler,  than  hope  —  it  is  duty.  Mine  is  to  my 
father,  who,  in  spite  of  this  strange  sternness,  would  die  if  I 
should  desert  him.  Yours  is  to  your  country,  and  you  will 
not  prove  recreant." 

"  Evelyn,  are  you  coming?"  called  Mr.  Chester  again,  and 
Col.  Stanley's  voice  was  heard  saying,  "  What  keeps  Miss 
Evelyn  ? "  At  the  sound  she  drew  her  hands  away  from 
Percy,  and,  forcing  herself  into  calmness,  murmured  a  fare 
well. 

In  another  moment  Col.  Stanley  entered  the  room,  and 
offered  his  arm  to  escort  her  to  the  carriage.  She  could  not 
decline  the  accustomed  courtesy  without  attracting  attention 
to  her  ill-concealed  agitation :  and,  dropping  her  veil,  she  was 


THE     VALLEY     FARM,  kj 

led  away,  leaving  Percy  petrified  by  emotions  divided  between 
indignation  and  despair. 

It  was  characteristic  of  these  two  noble  hearts  that,  though 
they  had  not  met  for  months,  though  they  parted  never,  per 
haps,  to  meet  again,  neither  felt  it  necessary  to  utter  those 
protestations  for  the  past,  those  vows  for  the  future,  which 
are  demanded  to  satisfy  a  love  less  strong  and  true.  Blindly 
as  they  were  walking  along  the  dark  path  of  destiny,  each 
had  confidence  in  the  other,  and  the  troubles  that  environed 
them  were  not  increased  by  needless  jealousy  and  distrust. 

Yet,  as  Percy  Grey  lingered  at  the  window  where  Evelyn 
had  stood,  and  laid  his  burning  brow  against  the  spot  where 
her  small  hand  had  rested,  he  thought  bitterly  of  this  ill-timed 
visit  to  a  home  which  the  ruthless  hand  of  war  had  stripped 
of  every  appearance  of  comfort ;  where  poverty,  hard  and 
pitiless,  stared  him  in  the  face ;  and  of  his  own  rough  gar 
ments  and  toil-worn  appearance,  contrasted  with  the  elegan 
cies  surrounding  Evelyn  in  her  own  home,  and  the  rich  dress 
and  easy  air  of  the  man  who  was  evidently  his  rival.  This 
contrast  must  influence  Mr.  Chester's  feelings,  if  they  were 
not  already  decided.  And  would  it  be  reasonable  to  suppose 
that  one  reared  amid  the  luxuries  of  wealth,  utterly  unused 
to  toil,  beautiful,  and  continually  wooed  to  a  sphere  where  her 
beauty  could  receive  the  admiration  it  deserved,  could  con 
template  without  repugnance  the  homely  surroundings  and 
the  obscure  lot  which  awaited  the  woman  whose  destiny  was 
united  to  his  ?  Then  he  thought  of  the  low  opinion  of  him 
manifested  in  Mr.  Chester's  attempt  to  bribe  him  to  desert 


22  AGNES. 

his  country's  cause,  and  of  Col.  Stanley's  careless  scorn  ;  and, 
wounded  in  his  honor  and  in  his  love,  he  ground  his  teeth 
together  in  a  mood  from  which  death  would  have  been  a 
pleasant  relief.  His  mother's  voice  aroused  him  from  his 
revery. 

"  My  son,  thee  seems  troubled  in  spirit.     Has  thee  cause  ?  " 

Half  ashamed  at  having  manifested  his  emotions,  he 
answered,  moodily,  "  I  am  a  foolish  boy,  mother.  I  aimed  at 
the  moon,  and  my  arrow  has  fallen  back  and  wounded  me." 

"  Thee  never  was  a  boy  to  cry  for  a  little  smart,"  she  said, 
gazing  into  his  face  with  a  searching  yet  sympathizing 
expression ;  "  and  thee  always  manifested  a  gift  to  persevere 
till  thee  gained  thy  will." 

"  And  so  I  can  now,"  he  interrupted,  his  brown  eyes  flash 
ing,  and  his  lip  curving,  as  he  raised  himself  with  a  sudden 
strength  and  courage,  his  buoyant  spirit  rebounding  from  its 
intense  depression.  "  So  will  I  now  persevere  and  conquer. 
Bless  you,  mother !  you  always  have  the  right  word  to  say. 
You  have  given  me  new  life." 

Her  face,  still  lovely,  though  it  had  borne  the  cares  and 
sorrows  of  life  far  into  the  vale  of  years,  grew  flushed  a  little 
with  pleasure  at  this  burst  of  feeling;  but  she  only  said, 
quietly,  with  her  own  calm  smile,  "  I  know  thee  well,  my  son. 
But  where  did  thee  meet  these  friends  ?  I  never  heard  thee 
speak  of  them." 

"  You  can  guess  why,  mother.  When  we  were  stationed 

at ,  last  summer,  the  officers  were  quartered  on  its  tory 

inhabitants,  as  they  usually  are,  by  way  of  taking  toll  for 


THE     VALLEY      FARM.  23 

their  principles,  I  suppose ;  though  I,  for  one,  find  it  a  very 
disagreeable  method'  of  retaliating  my  country's  wrongs. 
However,  in  this  instance  I  could  not  quarrel  with  my  allot 
ment,  for  Chester  Close,  my  temporary  home,  was  a  little 
paradise,  and  its  Eve  —  well,  you  have  seen  her  !  There  is 
not  another  woman  like  her  in  the  world,  and  never  will  be. 
But  enough  of  this !  Did  you  see  how  my  day's  hunting  has 
prospered  ?  I  should  enjoy  eating  some  of  those  fish  almost 
as  well  as  I  did  catching  them ;  for,  mother,  in  spite  of  my 
hopes  and  my  despair,  I  am  hungry." 

Mrs.  Grey  forbore  to  press  him  with  any  further  questions, 
though  her  curiosity  was  much  aroused ;  but,  taking  the  hint, 
she  went  into  the  kitchen,  whence  a  savory  odor  soon  gave 
token  that  supper  was  in  progress.  Percy  remained  where  she 
left  him,  and  his  gayety,  which  had  been  partly  assumed,  gave 
place  to  an  expression  of  deep  and  troubled  thought.  Yet 
the  gloom  was  not  so  intense  as  before  his  mother's  words  had 
roused  him,  and  his  mortification  and  anger  was  nearly  for 
gotten  as  he  dwelt  upon  those  looks  and  words  of  Evelyn,  that, 
far  more  than  any  vow  of  endearment,  told  of  her  unchanged 
regard.  As  he  thus  mused,  a  shout  was  heard  at,a  little  dis- 
tance,'a  clear  ringing  halloo  that  echoed  above  the  rattling  of 
a  wagon  driven  furiously  down  hill.  "  The  noisy  boy  has 
come,  at  last !  "  ejaculated  Percy,  and  went  out  to  meet  his 
brother. 

They  were  the  only  surviving  children  of  the  aged  pair, 
who  had  passed  their  two-score  years  of  married  life  upon 
this  farm,  redeemed  by  hard  toil  from  the  wilderness.  Mr. 


24  AGNES. 

Grey,  a  man  of  strong  native  sense  and  unconquerable 
energy,  had  been  in  early  life  deprived  of  the  benefits  of 
education;  and  though  for  many  years  before  the  war  his 
lands  had  afforded  him  a  comfortable  support,  he  had  always 
"  earned  his  bread  in  the  sweat  of  his  brow,"  and  had  little 
leisure  or  inclination  for  mental  cultivation.  His  wife,  whom 
he  had  persuaded  to  brave  the  terrors  of  being  "  read  out  of 
meeting,"  came  of  a  Quaker  family,  whose  ancestors  had  been 
among  the  wealthy  and  influential  in  England,  and  in  her  girl 
hood  she  had  mingled  in  the  highest  circles  of  Philadelphia 
society,  and  enjoyed  all  the  advantages  its  schools  could  give. 
Afterwards  her  father  become  involved  in  unfortunate  com 
mercial  speculations,  his  riches  vanished,  sickness  and  death 
followed  to  complete  the  wreck,  and  his  daughter  was  sup 
porting  herself  by  teaching  a  country  school  when  the  blithe 
young  farmer  wooed  and  won  her  as  his  bride. 

Of  eight  children  who  had  been  born  to  them,  only  these 
two,  the  youngest  ones,  now  remained.  Of  these,  Percy  was 
two  years  the  elder,  and  from  his  childhood  he  manifested  a 
keen  thirst  for  knowledge,  which,  joined  with  great  activity 
of  body  and  mind,  a  buoyancy  of  disposition  and  unflagging 
courage,  justified  the  hopes  his  parents  had  formed  that  he 
would  overcome  the  obstacles  circumstances  had  thrown  in 
his  way,  acquire  a  collegiate  education,  and  make  himself 
distinguished  as  a  lawyer.  To  this  end  he  was  pursuing  his 
studies  in  Harvard  College,  when  the  breaking  out  of  the  war 
and  the  siege  of  Boston  made  study  impossible  to  the  gallant 
youths  who  burned  to  deliver  their  country  from  the  tyrant's 


TIIE     VALLEY      FARM.  25 

yoke.  Percy  immediately  joined  the  army,  and  soon  acquired 
such  repute  as  a  soldier  that  he  had  been  promoted  from  one 
rank  to  another,  until  at  the  time  our  story  opens  he  was 
"  Major  Grey,"  having  been  promoted  from  the  captaincy 
since  the  summer  during  which  he  was  stationed  at  Chester 
Close. 

His  brother,  Franklin,  a  noisy,  rattling,  vivacious  fellow, 
steady  in  nothing  but  his  changeless  good-humor  and  the  firm 
principles  of  right  in  which  he  had  been  reared,  appeared 
formed  by  nature  for  the  soldier's  life.  Into  it  he  had 
plunged  with  as  little  thought  and  as  keen  a  zest  as  he  would 
have  carried  into  a  "  husking  frolic,"  or  a  "  raising  bee."  He 
was  rather  below  the  medium  size,  with  a  profusion  of  light 
curly  hair,  which  was  never  in  his  life  known  to  be  smooth 
for  two  minutes  together.  He  had  blue  eyes,  like  his  father's, 
but  gleaming  over  with  fun ;  his  features  were  good,  and  his 
face  expressed  such  careless  satisfaction  with  the  world  in 
general,  and  himself  in  particular,  that  all  the  annoyances 
and  vexations  of  life  seemed  to  "flee  at  his  approach,  as 
shadows  before  the  sun. 

It  might  have  been  this  contagious  gayety  that  banished 
the  shade  of  care  from  Percy's  brow,  as  his  brother .  drove 
up  and  sprang  out  of  the  wagon,  exclaiming, 

"  Here,  bear  a  hand,  Major,  and  get  the  meal  bag-out,  or  I 
shall  swallow  it  whole !  Hurry  up  your  corn-cake,  mother ! 
I  could  eat  four  bears  and  a  moose,  and  not  choke  at  the 
horns  either.  Tell  you  what,  Percy,  there's  nothing  like 
starvation  to  give  a  fellow  an  appetite.  Was  n't  it  lucky  we 
3 


26  A  a  N  E  s  . 

came  home  last  night  and  found  father  and  mother  sitting  by 
the  fireplace,  with  not  a  thing  in  the  house  to  cook  for  a 
supper,  the  well  filled  up  with  feathers,  and  nobody  but 
1  moolly '  to  furnish  liquor  for  the  whole  party  !  Tell  you 
what,  we  never  should  have  known  how  good  milk  tastes,  if  it 
had  n't  been  for  that.  Upon  the  whole,  foraging  parties  are 
a  blessing." 

"  And  burnt  barns,  and  spoiled  harvests !  "  suggested 
Percy,  who  while  he  was  talking  had  assisted  him  to  carry 
several  bags  of  meal  into  the  house. 

"  Well,  upon  the  whole,  if  they  must  ride  over  the  fields, 
they  had  better  burn  the  barn.  An  empty  barn  all  winter 
would  be  rather  tantalizing,  beside  being  cold  for  the  cow." 

"  No  barn  at  all,  is  colder." 

"  0,  we  '11  build  a  shed  to  put  the  hay  in.  What  a  lucky 
thing  it  was  the  hay  was  n't  hauled  up  from  the  meadow !  But 
I  recommend  to  mother  to  let  the  cow  sleep  in  the  best  bed 
room  this  winter.  She  deserves  it  for  having  sense  enough  to 
be  lost  that  day,  so  these  rascals  could  n't  drive  her  off. 
Where  's  father,  I  wonder  !  " 

"  He  went  to  look  for  that  same  cow,  and  here  he  comes. 
Percy,  if  thee  '11  see  to  the  corn-cake,  and  fry  the  fish,  I  '11 
go  milk,"  said  his  mother,  as  they  approached  the  fire. 

'  0,  don't  set  him  at  it !  "  exclaimed  Frank.  "  He  'd  get 
into  a  brown  study,  and  put  all  the  fat  in  the  fire,  literally  and 
metaphorically.  I  can  cook  as  well  as  if  I  'd  been  through  a 
dozen  colleges,  and  studied  all  the  ologies,  including  the  dox- 
ology.  Grive  me  the  fork.  In  fact,  any  fool  can  go  through 


THE     VALLEY      FARM.  27 

college,  but  it  takes  a  genius  to  cook.  Now,  see  me  turn  this 
fellow !  An't  he  handsome  ? "  Then,  in  a  rich  voice,  he 
carolled 

"  0,  the  jolly  brook  trout, 
Bless  his  spotted  side  ! 
He 's  a  pretty  cretur  swimming, 
But  he 's  prettier  bein'  fried. 

I  declare,  if  I  hadn't  been  born  a  Quaker,  I  should  have 
been  a  poet ;  don't  you  think  so,  Percy  ?  " 

Thus  he  rattled  on,  singing  snatches  of  verse  and  uttering 
his  nonsense,  with  a  mirthful  twinkle  in  his  eyes,  and  a  hearty 
abandon  to  his  own  odd  conceits,  that  made  his  gayety  irre 
sistibly  contagious. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE     WAIF. 

"  BOYS,"  said  old  Mr.  Grey,  as  he  seated  himself  at  the 
table  after  having  reverently  asked  a  blessing  on  the  food, 
"  boys,  I  would  n't  'a  believed,  last  night  this  time,  when 
mother  and  I  set  wondering  what  on  airth  we  should  do,  with 
the  house  all  ransacked  that  way,  and  the  grain  spiled,  and 
the  cow  lost,  and  nobody  to  help  us  do  nothin',  that  in  twenty- 
four  hours  we  'd  'a  had  so  much  to  be  thankful  for  !  " 

His  voice  trembled  a  little  as  he  spoke,  and  for  a  moment 
no  one  replied.  Frank  was  the  first  to  recover  himself. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  item  one,  the  cow  came  home.  Consid 
erate  cretur,  she  knew  when  to  come.  Item  two,  then  we 
came,  and,  not  having  eaten  anything  indigestible  for  supper 
—  item  three  —  we  all  slept  sound  as  roaches.  What  a  list 
of  blessings !  And  then  to-night  we  have  the  extraordinary 
privilege  of  eating  oil  the  best  china  !  How  much  I  used  to 
think  of  that  when  I  was  a  juvenile  youngster !  We  don't 
often  get  so  well  treated  when  we  come  home,  Percy.  'T  was 
a  good  thing  that  blue  delf  was  smashed  We  shall  eat  off 
of  china  all  the  time  now  !  " 


THEWAIF.  29 

His  father  smiled  sadly.  •  "  You  may  laugh  now,  Frank,  — 
perhaps  you  'd  as  good  laugh  's  cry  ;  but  things  looked  master 
serious  to  us  two  old  folks,  I  tell  you.  Ask  mother  if  they 
did  n't." 

"  It  was  indeed  a  bitter  cup,"  said  his  wife,  in  a  low  tone, 
"  but  I  told  thee  the  Lord  could  sweeten  it ! " 

"  I  think,  if  we  had  a  little  sugar  or  molasses  to  put  in  it, 
it  would  taste  better  now,"  muttered  Frank,  with  a  sly  glance, 
as  he  stirred  his  cup  of  sassafras-tea  with  rueful  grimaces  at 
its  unpalatable  contents.  A  smile  went  around  the  table,  and 
he  added  aloud,  springing  to  his  feet  with  sudden  vivacity, 
"  I  '11  bet !  —  maybe  that  molasses-jug  an't  broken.  The 
rascals  emptied  the  feather-beds  down  the  well  before  they 
smashed  the  crockery ;  did  n't  you  say  so,  mother  ?  " 

"  Yes,  after  they  had  been  through  the  chambers,  pre 
tending  to  think  we  had  fire-arms  hidden  there,  they  came  into 
the  kitchen  and  wanted  something  to  eat.  When  I  went  to 
get  it  for  them,  they  began  wilder  than  ever  singing  and 
swearing,  and  ended  by  destroying  everything  they  could  lay 
their  hands  on." 

"  Where  is  the  great  hook  that  used  to  hang  in  the  porch  ? 
I  've  faith  to  believe  there 's  sweetening  for  my  cup  down  the 
well !  "  and,  with  a  saucy  glance  at  his  mother,  Frank  went  out. 

Finding  the  hook  in  its  old  place,  he  fastened  it  to  a  long 
pole,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they  heard  his  voice  announc 
ing,  in  its  usual  noisy  manner,  that  his  search  had  been 
successful.  Then  followed  a  sudden  silence.  Percy  went  to 
the  door,  and  beheld  Frank  standing  with  a  crest-fallen  air 
3* 


30  A  G  N  K  3  . 

contemplating  the  inverted  jug.  The  well  was  not  deep,  and, 
being  choked  with  feathers,  had  preserved  it  unbroken  ;  but, 
alas  !  its  contents  had  been  poured  out  before  it  was  thrown 
there.  At  his  brother's  laugh  he  turned,  exclaiming,  with  a 
countenance  drawn  into  a  ludicrous  semblance  of  grief, 

"  Now,  you  would  n't  'a  thought  Providence  would  'a 
treated  a  fellow  so,  after  all  my  faith,  and  my  works  too  !  I 
would  never  believe  it,  for  I  an't  used  to  being  treated  so; 
only,  alas  !  '  seeing  is  believing.'  There 's  nothing  more  to 
hope  for  in  this  world ;  my  luck  has  turned  topsy-turvy,  like 
this  jug ! " 

He  pushed  it  carelessly  with  his  hook  as  he  ended  this 
rhapsody,  and  it  rolled  against  a  stone  and  broke  into  two 
pieces.  But  at  this  accident  his  face  changed  from  gravity 
to  gayety,  and  he  shouted,  "  Hurra !  there  never  was  such  a 
fellow  as  I  am  for  doing  things  at  the  right  time  !  Now,  none 
of  the  rest  of  you  would  ever  have  thought  of  breaking  that 
miserable  jug  for  the  sake  of  the  sugar;  and  mother  won't 
scold  me,  neither,  for  she  '11  think  't  was  cracked  before !  " 

"  She  '11  certainly  have  every  reason  to  think  so ! "  said 
Percy,  and  they  returned  to  the  kitchen,  Frank  bearing  in 
triumph  the  bottom  of  the  jug,  containing  more  than  a  pint 
of  the  moist  sugar  the  syrup  had  deposited. 

Having  thus  •"  sweetened  his  cup,"  Frank  seated  himself  to 
finish  his  supper ;  but  it  was  doomed  to  another  interruption, 
for,  after  a  few  moments  of  silence,  the  door  opened,  and  an 
old  Indian  woman  entered,  followed  by  the  young  girl  Percy 
had  met  in  the  forest. 


T  II  E     W  A  I  F  .  31 

"  Qua,  sister,  how  d'  ye  do  ?  "  said  one  and  another,  as  the 
squaw  took  a  low  seat  in  the  corner  of  the  fireplace,  and 
Lawontica  stood  beside  her. 

She  responded  to  the  greeting  by  a  few  words  in  her  native 
tongue  which  bore  the  same  meaning,  —  "  Pocwenoc  sewan 
queisis."  The  young  girl  raised  her  brilliant  eyes  with  a  quick 
glance  for  each  one,  and  showed  her  pearly  teeth  with  a  half- 
smile  ;  but  she  said  nothing,  and  her  manner  was  so  reserved 
that  Percy  was  struck  with  its  contrast  to  her  frank,  frolic 
some  air  a  few  hours  before. 

"  What  for  you  come,  sister  ?  "  said  Mr.  Grey,  at  length, 
as  she  seemed  indisposed  to  speak. 

She  fumbled  with  a  bundle  she  carried  in  her  arms,  but 
remained  silent,  and  Frank  added,  laughing, 

"  Perhaps  the  young  sister  can  enlighten  us,  since  the  old 
one  is  dumb.  Lawontica,  my  princess  of  the  woods,  what 
does  the  venerable  Sanoso  want  to  say  ?  " 

Another  rapid,  flashing  glance  shot  from  beneath  the  jetty 
eyelashes  ;  but  Lawontica  was  too  well  bred  to  speak  before 
her  elders  had  finished,  and,  having  satisfied  the  requirements 
of  Indian  etiquette  by  her  protracted  silence,  Sanoso  soon 
replied,  addressing  Mr.  Grey  as  if  he  had  just  spoken. 

"Plenty  times  Indian  woman  come,  s'pose  she  want  'um 
anything;  but  now  me  rich —  white  man  poor." 

"  You  tell  the  truth,  Sanoso ;  we  are  poor  —  master. 
Everything  clean  smashed  up." 

"  Sartin  Sagamow  ve'y  good  to  poor  Indian  woman  —  ve'y 
good,"  said  Sanoso,  with  untaught  delicacy  of  feeling,  giving 


82  A  Q  N  E  S  . 

him  the  title  used  for  a  chief,  in  order  to  express  her  respect 
for  his  misfortunes.  "  Plenty  times  s'pose  me  want  'um  little 
sugar,  little  tea,  little  glease,*  smoke  'um  little  tamahway,t 
maybe,  always  me  get  'um,  always  white  man  say,  take  'um, 
sister.  So  now  me  say,  take  'um,  sister  !  "  and  she  threw  off 
the  cloth  wrapped  round  her  bundle,  and  displayed  a  plump 
hedgehog,  and  a  brace  of  partridges,  which  Lawontica  took 
from  her  hand  and  laid  upon  the  table.  Frank  seized  and 
held  them  up  for  general  inspection. 

"  You  are  a  reg'lar  old  copper-colored  saint,  Sanoso,  if  ever 
there  was  one,"  said  he ;  "  but  I  reckon  it  was  Lawontica'a 
bright  eyes  took  aim  at  these  birds." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grey  accepted  the  gift  as  freely  as  it  had 
been  offered,  knowing  that  the  slightest  hesitation  would 
wound  the  old  Avoman  most  keenly ;  but  Percy  was  inclined 
to  demur. 

"You  will  have  nothing  left  for  yourself,"  objected  he, 
"  and  Lawontica  told  me  that  last  night  you  had  nothing  to 
eat  or  drink  in  the  wigwam.  Here  are  two  stout  boys ;  never 
fear  but  they  can  take  care  of  the  old  folks,  Sanoso." 

"  Plenty,  plenty  !  Indian  woman  hab  plenty.  No  want 
'um  eat  when  white  man  hungry,"  answered  Sanoso,  hastily ; 
and,  with  a  quick  sign  to  the  girl,  she  glided  through  the  door 
way,  and  trotted  off  as  fast  as  her  old  limbs  would  carry  her, 
fearful  lest  after  all  her  offering  should  be  rejected.  Lawon 
tica  followed  more  slowly,  and  did  not  quicken  her  footsteps 
upon  hearing  Frank's  behind  her.  He  had  been  sent  to  urge 
*  Grease.  t  Tobacco. 


T  II  E     W  A  I  F  .  33 

them  to  return  and  share  the  food  they  had  provided ;  but  San- 
oso  was  already  out  of  sight,  and  the  two  paused  for  a  little 
chat  as  they  reached  the  belt  of  thick  woods  which  skirted 
the  clearing.  They  had  been  familiar  companions  from  child 
hood.  The  tribe  to  which  these  Indians  belonged  had,  some 
years  since,  become  merged  with  other  and  more  powerful 
ones,  inhabiting  regions  remote  from  the  white  settlements ; 
but  Sanoso,  whose  local  attachments  were  exceedingly  strong, 
could  never  be  induced  to  migrate  from  the  spot  where  her 
happiest  days  were  passed  —  the  woods,  the  waters,  the  glades, 
known  to  her  early  days.  She  was  a  widow,  and,  though  her 
husband  had  been  a  man  of  note  among  their  people,  after 
his  death  she  was  thrown  very  much  upon  her  own  resources 
for  support.  A  little  experience  had  convinced  her  it  was 
easier  for  one  thus  situated  to  live  comfortably  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  kind-hearted  farmers  around  her,  than  when  depending 
solely  upon  the  chances  of  a  successful  hunt,  or  the  scanty 
gleanings  of  the  forest. 

Therefore,  after  having  several  times  left  her  wigwam  soli 
tary  for  months  together,  she  had  returned  more  than  ever 
determined  never  to  leave  it  again ;  and  though  she  was  not 
forgotten  by  her  relatives,  .as  chance  visits  and  presents  of 
game  testified,  she  had  little  society  except  when  the  young 
girl,  her  grandchild,  came  to  visit  her. 

Lawontica  was  a  princess  in  her  forest-realm,  and  she  was 
not  unmindful  of  the  pride  of  birth,  which  demanded  from 
ter,  amid  the  toils  and  cares  common  to  the  lot  of  an  Indian 
woman,  a  haughtier  step,  and  an  air  of  reserve  befitting  her 


34  AGNES. 

rank  as  the  daughter  of  a  powerful  chief.  But  she  enforced 
this  deference  when  living  with  her  own  tribe,  making  little 
boast  of  it  during  her  frequent  sojourns  with  Sanoso,  as  she 
associated  with  her  white  neighbors.  She  was  impulsive  to  the 
last  degree,  and  had  little  of  the  art  usual  to  the  Indian,  of 
hiding  or  dissembling  her  feelings.  Indeed,  she  was  so  cour 
ageous  and  so  proud  that  she  would  have  scorned  dissimula 
tion,  and  her  free,  wild  life  had  hitherto  afforded  little  oppor 
tunity  for  self-discipline ;  but  she  was  affectionate  and  kind- 
hearted,  and,  if  there  were  darker  passions  in  her  soul,  they 
had  not  yet  been  roused. 

Sanoso's  wigwam  was  nearer  to  Mr.  Grey's  farm  than  to 
any  other,  and  she  had  been  many  times  dependent  upon  his 
bounty.  In  return,  her  skill  in  woodcraft  had  helped  to  train 
his  boys  in  the  mysteries  of  snaring  game,  and  of  hooking 
trout  and  other  denizens  of  the  neighboring  waters ;  for  the 
old  woman  was  an  angler  worthy  to  have  been  a  disciple  of 
Izaak  Walton.  No  white  man  ever  could  regard  an  Indian 
as  his  equal,  but  upon  the  customary  terms  of  superiority  and 
inferiority  these  two  families  had  associated  for  many  years ; 
and  now  Frank,  whose  absence  from  home  had  been  pro 
tracted,  had  much  to  hear  of  Lawontica's  simple  life  during 
-the  interval,  and  much  to  tell  which  he  thought  would  interest 
her. 

Therefore  he  was  not  a  little  vexed  when,  a  few  moments 
after  he  joined  her,  the  twilight  suddenly  darkened  round 
them,  and  a  loud  peal  of  thunder  crashed  over  their  heads, 
followed  by  a  vivid  flash  and  some  heavy  rain-drops. 


T  II  E     \V  A  I  F  .  35 

"  We  shall  have  another  shower,"  said  Frank.  "  Come, 
now,  turn  back  and  stay  at  our  house  all  night." 

"  No,  no ;  Sanoso  he  old  woman  —  much  tired  ebery 
night.  S'pose  he  get  wet,  s'pose  he  all  alone,  much  he  say, 
'  Where  Lawontica  ? ' "  She  glanced  rapidly  over  the  heavens, 
and  added,  "  Sartin  ve'y  much  rain  he  come.  Go  quick  — 
maybe  you  get  home  'fore  you  get  'um  wet." 

"  Pooh  !  what  do  I  care  for  the  wet  ?  I  '11  walk  home  with 
you,  if  you  won't  come  with  me." 

But  she  insisted  that  he  should  not  do  so,  and,  to  end  the 
argument,  abruptly  left  him,  and  disappeared  in  the  mazes  of 
the  trees.  It  was  useless  to  follow  her,  had  he  been  inclined, 
and  he  ran  towards  the  house  as  rapidly  as  possible.  His 
father  stood  at  the  door. 

"Wouldn't  they  come  back?"  he  asked.  "Well,  now, 
some  folks  says  Injins  is  ungrateful,  and  I  won't  say  I  have  n't 
talked  agin  'em  myself;  but  I  '11  never  say  arter  this  but  what 
they  're  every  bit  as  good  as  white  folks,  if  you  only  treat 
'em  well  —  yes,  and  a  master  sight  better  'n  some  on  'em. 
But  what  a  storm  we  're  going  to  have ! "  he  added,  as  another 
peal  rattled  over  their  heads.  "  It'll  be  bad  for  them  folks, 
with  them  scared  hosses  —  master." 

"  What  folks  ?  "  asked  Frank. 

His  father  related  the  accident  which  befell  the  carriage 
whose  occupants  had  found  shelter  beneath  his  roof,  and 
described  each  person,  particularly  enlarging  upon  the  beauty 
of  the  young  lady.  Percy  and  his  mother  were  generally  the 
quiet  ones  in  the  family  group,  but  now  they  seemed  unusually 


36  AGNES. 

silent  and  anxious.  The  darkness  grew  more  intense  every 
moment,  the  thunder  pealed  and  crashed  as  if  striving  to  rend 
the  vault  of  heaven,  and  the  low-hanging  clouds  were  irradi 
ated  awfully  with  the  incessant  glare  of  lightning.  Then 
came  the  rain,  scantily  at  first,  striking  like  hailstones  upon 
the  windows  as  the  wind  rose,  and  soon  rushing  down  in 
sheets,  in  floods,  as  if  disputing  with  the  electrical  forces  for 
the  destruction  of  the  world.  But  the  contest  was  not  long. 
The  thunder,  growling  and  muttering,  grew  faint  and  fainter 
in  the  distance,  and  the  rain  subsided  into  a  gentle  shower, 
which  pattered  pleasantly  on  the  roof  of  the  lonely  farm 
house,  and  filled  the  air  with  a  delicious  fragrance  of  moist 
ened  earth  and  growing  leaves  and  flowers. 

Percy  Grey  opened  the  door,  when  the  rain  had  nearly 
ceased,  and  stood  looking  around  him,  as  if  listening  for  some 
sound  from  the  darkness  without.  His  father  joined  him 
there. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  them  two  women  was  safe  in  their  wig 
wam,"  he  said,  half  aloud ;  "  this  an't  a  night  for  women 
folks  to  be  out,  any  way,  —  though  I  s'pose  them  two  '11  get 
along  where  anybody  will,  they  're  so  used  to  the  woods." 

"  Sanoso  can  find  a  hiding-place  almost  anywhere  in  the 
forest,  and  Lawontica  is  young  and  vigorous ;  I  don't  think 
they  are  in  much  danger,  though  such  a  wetting  is  rather 
uncomfortable,"  replied  Percy. 

"  Well,  now,  this  has  been  a  master  storm  !  I  never  saw 
anything  like  it  in  this  world,  J  tell  you  !  "  said  Mr.  Grey. 
He  had  a  queer  way  of  using  this  expression,  as  if  he  was 


T  n  E   w  A  i  F  .  37 

familiarly  acquainted  with  half  a  dozen  other  worlds,  and  was 
giving  the  result  of  his  knowledge  as  a  piece  of  private  infor 
mation,  by  no  means  to  be  again  imparted.  But  Percy  was 
too  anxious  to  continue  the  conversation.  He  walked  restlessly 
across  the  room,  to  and  fro,  pausing  occasionally  to  look  and 
listen,  until  his  brother  said,  wonderingly, 

"  What  ails  the  Major?  He  is  as  uneasy  as  a  toad  under 
a  harrow.  What  occasion  has  he  to  fret?  Suppose  the 
storm  has  been  a  rouser,  —  it 's  over  now." 

"  He 's  worried,  I  suppose,  about  them  friends  of  his'n," 
answered  Mr.  Grey.  "  So  be  I  too  —  master !  I  wish 
they'd  stayed  here,  as  mother  asked  'em  to.  I  never 
know'd  anybody  to  prosper  that  went  agin  mother's  advice. 
Mind  that,  boys  !  Them  folks  have  been  sorry  since,  I  tell 
you." 

"  So  they  have,  or  I  miss  my  guess,"  said  Frank.  "But, 
then,  they  could  take  out  the  horses  when  they  saw  the  first 
flash,  and  the  folks  in  the  carriage  would  be  safe  enough. 
The  others  could  ride  into  the  woods  and  be  protected.  A 
little  rain  won't  hurt  any  of  'em." 

"But  Evelyn — Miss  Chester  I  mean — seemed  very  appre 
hensive,  and  I  know  she  is  not  easily  frightened.  The  horses 
must  have  behaved  badly ;  we  know  the  roads  are  in  a  shock 
ing  state  for  a  few  miles,  and  they  must  have  gone  very  slowly 
with  that  broken  axle." 

So  said  Percy,  thoughtfully;  but  Frank's  cheery  voice 
broke  in,  "To  be  sure,  anybody  might  as  well  be  killed  as 
4 


38  AGNES. 

frightened  to  death  ;  but  after  you  get  by  the  broken  bridge, 
three  miles  from  here,  it  is  easy  enough  to  get  along." 

"  That  broken  bridge,"  exclaimed  Percy,  —  "I  had  entirely 
forgotten  it !  " 

He  walked  to  the  door  again,  and  looked  forth.  The  rain 
had  ceased,  and  the  clouds  breaking  away  here  and  there 
showed  glimpses  of  the  rising  moon,  touching  their  ragged 
edges  with  silver.  From  the  forest  came  a  low,  rushing 
sound  of  many  waters,  mingled  with  the  fitful  sobbing  of  the 
breeze,  as  it  sank  away  to  rest  in  the  bosom  of  night. 

"  It  is  no  use,"  he  said,  at  length ;  "  I  cannot  sleep  till  I 
know  they  have  safely  passed  that  bridge  and  the  rocky  hill 
beyond.  You  will  laugh,  Frank,  but  I  am  going  to  saddle 
my  horse  and  ride  down  there  !  " 

This  was  received  by  his  brother  with  the  expected  shout 
of  derision,  and  by  his  father  with  a  "  Pooh,  pooh !  you  're 
foolish,  boy."  He  looked  only  at  his  mother,  and  she  replied, 

"  I  think  thee  's  over  anxious,  Percy  ;  for,  if  any  accident 
had  happened  within  three  miles,  they  would  have  sent  one  of 
the  horsemen  back  before  this  time.." 

"  So  they  would !  "  said  Mr.  Grey..  "  Mother  always 
thinks  of  the  right  thing,  Percy.  I  never  saw  her  beat  for  it 
in  this  world !  " 

The  supposition  indeed  seemed  reasonable,  and  his  brother 
reminded  him  of  the  fact  that  he  had  already  walked  twelve 
miles  that  day ;  but  they  could  not  change  his  resolution.  He 
seemed  impelled  to  satisfy  himself  by  ocular  demonstration. 
Thinking  of  it  afterwards  in  connection  with  the  important 


T  H  B    W  A  I  F  .  39 

bearing  which  the  result  of  this  night-ride  had  upon  his 
destiny,  he  could  not  help  believing  himself  actuated,  not  so 
much  by  his  own  volition,  as  by  one  of  those  influences  which 
we  call  supernatural,  because  a  higher  power  seems  to  seize 
our  will,  and,  in  spite  of  our  calmer  judgment,  move  us 
whither  it  pleases. 

"  If  you  are  determined  to  go,  I  will  go  with  you !  "  said 
Frank,  as  he  saw  Percy  preparing  for  his  ride ;  and  they 
went  out  together  to  the  low  shed  joining  the  house, which  had 
heretofore  been  used  as  a  sort  of  outer  kitchen,  but  now  was 
compelled  to  perform  duty  as  a  stable.  Here  they  found 
their  horses,  and,  saddling  them,  were  soon  heard  galloping 
down  the  road. 

The  three  miles  were  quickly  traversed.  The  stream  was 
foaming  high  between  its  steep  banks  under  the  broken  bridge, 
but  there  was  no  token  of  any  accident,  and  they  rode  up  the 
hill  beyond,  on  one  side  of  which  a  considerable  precipice 
made  the  way  dangerous  in  the  night.  As  they  reached  the 
top,  suddenly  the  moon  shone  out  in  full  splendor,  scattering 
the  clouds,  and  revealing  the  road  straight  before  them  for 
some  distance. 

"  There  is  no  sign  of  any  carriage ;  they  must  have  driven 
rapidly  before  the  storm  came  on.  Perhaps  they  accomplished 
the  distance  between  our  house  and  our  next  neighbor's,  and 
found  shelter  there.  I  hope  now  you  are  satisfied,  Percy !  " 
said  his  brother,  as  they  paused  to  take  breath  before  turning 
homeward. 

But  Percy  was  looking  earnestly  down  the  hill,  and  he 


40  AGNES. 

directed  Frank's  attention  to  some  object  imperfectly  seen  in 
the  shadow  of  the  trees. 

"Whatever -it  maybe,  it  is  not  the  carriage,  so  it  is  no 
concern  of  ours."  Then,  looking  more  earnestly,  Frank 
added,  "  It  is  the  top  of  a  tree  which  has  been  struck  with 
lightning,  probably,  and  fallen  just  on  the  edge  of  the  road." 

"  Yes,"  said  Percy,  "  but  I  see  something  lying  on  the 
ground  beside  it.  There,  now  the  moonlight  shows  it  more 
clearly ;  don't  you  see  it  ?  " 

"  I  see  something,  certainly ;  let  us  go  and  find  out  what 
it  is." 

They  rode  forward.  It  was  a  human  form,  lying  motion 
less  on  the  ground.  They  spoke,  but  received  no  answer. 
Dismounting,  Percy  lifted  it  in  his  arms  and  carried  it  to  an 
open  place,  where  the  clear  light  showed  him  a  slight  figure 
dressed  in  a  suit  of  gray  summer  clothing,  which  alone  had 
enabled  them  to  see  him.  The  cap  had  fallen  off,  and  short 
silky  curls,  of  that  beautiful  tinge  between  flaxen  and  golden, 
heavy  with  rain,  were  matted  around  a  low,  broad  brow, 
white  as  marble ;  while  the  delicate  features,  the  closed  eyes, 
with  long,  dark  lashes  drooping  on  the  cheek,  and  the  relaxed 
limbs,  made  the  boy  look  like  an  exquisite  piece  of  sculpture. 

"  It  is  a  mere  child.  How  came  he  here  alone  ? "  said 
Percy. 

"  How  beautiful  he  is !    Do  you  suppose  he  can  be  dead  ?  " 

"  He  seems  so,"  answered  Percy ;  "  he  is  quite  cold,  and  I 
don't  feel  any  pulse.  Probably,  when  the  tree  fell  it  struck 
him,  or  the  lightning  killed  him.  How  pitiful  it  is  !  " 


T  II  E     W  A  I  F  .  41 

"  He  may  not  be  really  dead  !  "  persisted  Frank;  "  they  do 
sometimes  revive.  Open  his  vest,  and  put  your  hand  on  his 
heart.  If  there  is  any  warmth  there,  we  will  pour  some 
brandy  between  his  lips;  I  have  a  flask  in  my  saddle-bag." 

Percy  followed  this  suggestion,  kneeling  on  one  knee  and 
supporting  the  death-like  head  upon  his  arm.  In  the  brilliant 
sheen  that  now  fell  over  them,  Frank  saw  his  brother's  face 
flush  crimson,  while  he  withdrew  his  hand  suddenly,  and  said, 
in  a  low  voice, 

"  The  heart  beats  feebly ;  but,  Frank,  here  i&  strange  folly, 
or  distress,  or  guilt.  This  is  a  woman  !  " 

"  There  cannot  be  guilt  in  that  face,"  answered  Frank, 
almost  indignantly.  "  At  any  rate,  we  must  save  her  life,  if 
we  can." 

They  poured  the  brandy  between  the  parted  lips,  and 
chafed  the  pallid  hands,  taking  off  their  coats  to  wrap  about 
the  chilled  form  that  lay  so  lifeless  in  their  arms.  Their 
cares  were  not  in  vain,  though,  had  they  been  a  little  later,  no 
human  aid  could  have  availed.  After  a  few  minutes,  Frank 
detected  a  feeble  pulse  in  the  hand  he  held,  and  she  opened 
her  eyes  with  a  struggling,  gasping  breath,  and  a  faint  moan 
of  pain.  But  it  was  nearly  an  hour  before  she  was  suffi 
ciently  revived  to  be  removed  with  safety.  Even  then  she 
seemed  unconscious,  and  Percy  held  her  like  an  infant  in  his 
arras  as  they  walked  their  horses  slowly  homeward.  Her 
light  weight  was  nothing  to  the  strong  man  against  whose 
breast  her  head  with  its  golden  curls  fell  helplessly ;  and,  as 
they  noticed  her  delicate  beauty,  the  brothers  perplexed  them- 
4* 


42  AGNES 

selves  with  conjectures  as  to  who  she  could  be,  and  what 
chance  could  have  left  her  thus  alone  in  the  forest.  Upon 
reaching  home,  they  found  themselves  expected  rather  anx 
iously,  after  their  prolonged  absence. 

"  What  kept  you  so,  boys?"  said  Mr.  Grey;  "  and  what  on 
airth,  Percy  —  why,  what  have  you  got  there?" 

"  A  poor  unfortunate,  that  we  found  half  dead  in  the  road 
just  over  the  bridge,"  he  replied.  "  Here,  take  her  carefully ; 
she  is  hardly  alive  now." 

"  And  wet  through,  too,  I  s'pose,  arter  that  shower — poor 
cretur !  Now,  this  is  bad,  an't  it  —  master  !  "  said  the  old  man, 
holding  up  his  arms.  But  Frank  had  already  dismounted,  and, 
rather  unceremoniously  pushing  his  father  aside,  took  her 
from  Percy,  and,  carrying  her  into  the  house,  laid  her  down 
before  the  kitchen  hearth,  where  a  few  embers  were  yet 
burning. 

"  Here,  mother,  bring  some  blankets !  Percy,  kindle  up  the 
fire !  She  must  be  chilled  through ;  and,  I  believe  my  soul, 
she  's  dead  now !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  alarm. 

But  she  had  only  fainted  with  exhaustion  ;  and  the  warmth 
of  the  fire,  which  was  speedily  kindled,  together  with  the  stim 
ulants  they  gave  her,  as  soon  as  she  could  swallow,  at  length 
restored  both  life  and  intelligence.  She  gazed  about  wildly, 
making  a  vain  effort  to  rise ;  but,  when  the  others  withdrew, 
and  she  saw  only  Mrs.  Grey's  pleasant  face  looking  at  her 
with  sympathy  and  pity,  she  became  calmer.  She  yielded  to 
the  firm,  soft  hand,  which  pressed  her  down  again  upon  the 


TH  E   w  A  I  $ .  4# 

blankets,  and  lay  quietly,  her  eyes  half  closed,  without  once 
asking  where  she  was,  or  who  was  beside  her. 

Mrs.  Grey  could  hardly  refrain  from  tears  as  she  gazed  on 
that  emaciated  figure,  and  that  childish  face,  so  wan,  so 
wasted,  and  with  such  a  helpless,  hopeless  expression  cc  the 
drooping  eyelids,  and  the  white  lips,  that  quivered  now  and 
then,  as  if  a  spasm  of  pain  swept  over  her.  Going  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  room,  where  the  others  sat  silently  in 
darkness,  —  for  they  had  but  one  candle  in  the  house,  and 
were  saving  that  for  some  emergency,  —  she  said,  in  a  low 
tone, 

"  The  poor  young  thing  must  have  had  great  sorrow ;  we 
cannot  ask  her  about  it  to-night ;  and,  father,  thee  had  better 
go  to  bed,  and  you  too,  boys." 

"  Go  to  bedstead,  you  mean,"  interrupted  Frank,  "  for  we 
have  no  beds  !  " 

"  That  is  nothing,"  said  Percy,  "  as  far  as  we  are  concerned  ; 
but  I  wish  we  had  one  for  her.  You  mean  to  watch  with  her 
to-night,  I  suppose,  mother  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  will  need  care.  Thee  can  bring  me  in  some 
wood  to  keep  the  fire,  and  she  has  a  pretty  good  bed  there  on 
the  blankets.  When  thee  is  gone  I  will  change  her  wet 
clothes  for  dry  ones,  and  make  her  more  comfortable.  Then, 
I  think,  she  will  sleep." 

Percy  obeyed  this  request,  and  the  three  men  retired 
to  rest.  Mrs.  Grey  went  to  her  own  room,  and  brought 
thence  some  towels  and  a  suit  of  female  apparel,  with  a  large, 
loose  flannel  double-gown,  which  did  service  for  all  the  family 


44  AGNES. 

in  case  of  sickness.  Approaching  the  stranger,  whose  large 
blue  eyes  dilated  with  a  look  of  terror,  as  she  saw  these 
preparations,  she  said,  soothingly, 

"  Come  now,  dear,  let  me  help  thee  undress.  If  I  rub 
thee  well,  this  wetting  won't  make  thee  sick." 

But  she  drew  the  blanket  around  her  with  trembling  fin 
gers,  and,  shrinking  away,  said,  hurriedly, 

"  No,  no !  I  am  not  wet ;  these  clothes  do  well  enough." 

"  Child,"  said  Mrs.  Grey,  "  thee  don't  mean  to  say  what  is 
untrue.  Thee  don't  mean  thee  is  n't  wet !  " 

"  Well,  go  away,  and  I  will  change  them  myself;  I  am 
strong  enough.  If  you  will  bring  me  some  of  your  son's 
clothes,  —  I  don't  want  these  things !  "  she  uttered,  inco 
herently,  retreating  from  her  benefactor,  and  shivering  with 
agitation. 

"  Child,"  said  Mrs.  Grey  again,  in  a  tone  of  gentle  rebuke, 
"  thee  must  do  as  I  say.  Poor  thing,  thee  need  n't  fear  me,  — 
I  am  thy  friend ;  "  and  then,  with  a  faint  blush  at  her  own 
wounded  sense  of  propriety,  she  added,  "  Thy  sex  is  known  to 
me.  These  clothes  are  better  suited  to  thee  than  those  thee 
has  on  now." 

As  she  heard  this,  the  poor  child  sank  down  at  her  feet  as 
if  she  had  no  strength  to  struggle  longer,  aad,  clasping  her 
hands,  murmured,  feebly, 

"  Be  kind  to  me,  O,  be  kind  to  me  !     I  have  no  friends  !  " 

The  slight  air  of  constraint  which  Mrs.  Grey  had  worn, 
notwithstanding  her  pity,  melted  at  this  appeal.  She  sat 
down  on  the  blankets,  drawing  the  prostrate  form  to  her 


THEWAIF.  45 

bosom,  and  her  caress  seemed  to  unlock  all  the  pent-up  storm 
of  grief  in  that  young  heart.  Nestling  closer  in  those  kind 
arms,  she  wept  and  sobbed  unrestrainedly,  until  her  passion 
expended  itself,  and  the  blue  eyes,  half  drowned  in  tears, 
once  more  looked  up  timidly  to  the  face  above  her. 

"  I  am  very,  very  unhappy  !  "  she  said ;  "  and  I  have  been 
so  long  alone  !  I  did  not  mean  to  trouble  you ." 

"Thee  didn't  trouble  me,  dear;  but  I  grieve  to  see  thee 
suffer.  "What  ails  thee,  and  why  is  thee  dressed  in  this 
improper  garb  ?  What  is  thy  name  ?  " 

"  My  name  !  —  alas,  I  have  none !  "  she  answered,  wildly. 
"  No  name,  no  home,  no  friends,  in  all  the  wide,  wide  world ! 
0,  why  did  they  not  let  me  die? " 

"  Hush,  dear  !  thee  speaks  unadvisedly.  Thee  shall  have 
a  home  here,  and  friends  are  soon  made,  if  thee  knows  how  to 
be  friendly.  I  am  sure  thee  can't  have  been  driven  by  guilt 
to  this  strange  disguise,"  she  added,  with  a  little  of  that 
searching  look  which  had  at  first  abashed  her  visitor. 

"  0,  no !  "  she  replied,  while  a  hectic  fire  sprang  suddenly  to 
the  pale  cheeks,  —  "  0,  no  !  think  me  unfortunate,  deceived, 
but  indeed  I  was  not  wicked !  " 

"  And  thy  name  —  what  shall  I  call  thee  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Grey. 

"  Call  me  Agnes,"  she  answered,  turning  away  her  head. 

From  her  manner,  Mrs.  Grey  thought  this  must  be  an 
assumed  name ;  but  she  felt  the  necessity  of  ministering  to  the 
wants  of  her  strange  guest,  and,  seeing  that  she  had  become 
calm,  and  seemed  drooping  again  from  the  excitement  she 


46  AGNES. 

had  undergone,  hastened  to  remove  the  wet  clothing,  rubbed 
her  limbs  with  coarse  towels  till  they  glowed  with  a  natural 
heat,  and  robed  her  in  her  own  garments.  She  then  rear 
ranged  the  couch,  and,  covering  her  over  with  blankets, 
busied  herself  in  preparing  some  gruel.  Agnes  lay  watching 
her,  without  speaking ;  indeed,  she  was  too  weak  to  talk,  or 
even  think.  As  she  yielded  more  and  more  to  the  pleasant 
feelings  of  warmth  and  security,  the  past,  with  all  its  pain  and 
terror,  faded  from  her  mind  ;  and  when  she  had  been  roused 
to  take  the  needed  refreshment,  she  sank  into  a  profound  and 
dreamless  sleep. 

Mrs.  Grey  drew  to  the  fire  a  homely  but  comfortable  arm 
chair,  and  seated  herself,  alternately  watching  the  slumberer, 
—  whose  face  looked  so  youthful  and  innocent  in  its  perfect 
repose  that  it  was  hard  to  realize  she  could  ever  have  been 
overwhelmed  by  the  sorrows  of  life,  —  and  recalling  the 
crowded  events  of  the  last  two  days,  and  the  new  knowl 
edge  she  had  obtained  of  Percy's  heart  history.  Thus  she 
thought,  until  wearied  nature  asserted  its  claim,  and  she  too 
fell  asleep. 

Thus  Mr.  Grey  found  them  when,  in  the  early  twilight,  he 
came  into  the  kitchen.  Awaking  her,  he  assisted  her  to 
carry  Agnes  into  their  own  bedroom.  Still  wrapt  in  the 
death-like  slumber  of  utter  exhaustion,  she  was  unconscious 
of  her  removal,  and  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  before 
that  trance  was  broken.  Then  she  was  burning  with  fever 
and  racked  with  pain,  and  her  kind  hostess  listened  in  per- 


THEWAIF.  47 

plexity  and  fear  to  the  incoherent  words  which  fell  from  her 
lips. 

But  Mrs.  Grey's  brave  heart  did  not  falter,  though  this  addi 
tional  care  came  at  a  period  when  she  could  ill  afford  the  time 
and  strength  which  it  demanded.  No  physician  could  be  ob 
tained,  and  her  neighbors,  having  suffered  equally  with  herself 
from  the  ravages  of  the  soldiery,  were  too  much  engaged  with 
their  own  affairs  to  afford  her  much  assistance.  Still,  she  had 
considerable  skill  in  medicine,  and  was  unequalled  as  a  nurse ; 
and,  being  inured  to  watching  and  toil,  she  was  able  to  attend 
to  the  wants  of  the  sufferer  without  neglecting  the  household 
cares  which  devolved  upon  her. 

"  The  boys,"  as  they  were  called  at  home,  made  themselves 
busy  in  restoring,  as  far  as  possible,  the  comforts  of  which 
their  parents  had  been  deprived.  The  well  was  first  cleared 
out,  and  the  feathers,  carefully  gathered,  washed,  and  dried, 
served  to  fill  some  of  the  beds  and  pillows  from  which  they 
had  been  taken.  Then  the  broken  chairs  were  supplied  with 
arms  and  legs,  not  always  of  the  most  elegant  construction,  but 
rendering  them  fit  for  service.  Then  a  rude  shed  was  built,  to 
take  the  place  of  the  barn  which  had  been  burned ;  and  part 
of  the  meadow  hay  was  hauled,  because  it  was  uncertain 
when  they  might  be  at  home  again,  and  the  old  farmer's 
horses  had  been  taken  away.  These  active  young  heroes 
could  work  as  heartily  as  they  could  fight,  and  their  willing 
hands  and  intelligent  labor  changed  the  aspect  of  things  with 
marvellous  celerity.  The  little  money  they  had  was  reserved 
to  purchase  those  necessaries  of  life  their  lands  would  have 


48  AGNES. 

yielded,  had  they  not  been  wantonly  trampled  over.  There 
was  a  field  of  potatoes  to  be  dug  when  the  season  arrived, 
and  some  squash  and  pumpkin  vines  that  were  ascertained 
to  have  escaped  the  horses'  hoofs,  so  the  family  would  not 
want  for  vegetables  during  the  coming  winter ;  and  the  last 
few  days  of  their  limited  sojourn  were  spent  in  a  short  journey 
to  the  borders  of  a  lake  a  few  miles  distant,  where  they 
entfamped,  and  commenced  a  vigorous  attack  upon  the  pick 
erel  with  which  it  abounded,  —  an  attack  so  successful  that 
when  they  returned  they  brought  a  barrel  of  fish  packed  and 
salted  for  future  use. 

It  was  now  the  first  of  September,  and  the  next  day  they 
must  set  out  to  rejoin  the  army.  A  heavy  frost,  unusual  at 
that  season,  had  made  the  air  so  chilly  that  a  fire  was  com 
fortable,  and  the  family  sat  around  the  kitchen  hearth,  whence 
a  cheerful  glow  spread  over  all  the  room.  This  was  square  and 
low,  with  heavy  beams  across  the  ceiling,  garnished  with  an 
abundance  of  nails,  from  which  in  winter  were  hung  festoons 
of  dried  apples,  peaches,  and  pumpkins.  Opposite  the  huge 
fireplace  a  tall  "  dresser,"  with  its  drawers  and  shelves,  dis 
played  now,  in  scanty  gentility,  only  the  "best  china," 
instead  of  the  goodly  array  of  delf  ware,  or  pewter  and  tin, 
bright  as  silver,  which  had  been  the  pride  of  the  housewife. 
Between  the  windows  a  "settle,"  painted  light  blue,  was 
leaning  its  ungainly  proportions  against  the  wall ;  and  two  or 
three  straight-backed  chairs,  somewhat  crippled  in  their  nether 
limbs,  seemed  regarding  it  in  dignified  silence  from  the  oppo 
site  side  of  the  room,  where  a  door  opened  into  the  shed.  In 


THEWAIF.  49 

the  centre  of  the  floor  stood  a  table  bearing  the  marks  of  an 
axe,  and  upon  it  a  brass  candlestick,  sorely  battered,  wherein 
burned  a  bit  of  tallow  candle.  The  walls  were  stained  a  dull 
red,  the  beams  and  wood-work  had  become  dark  with  age ; 
but  all  was  scrupulously  clean,  and  the  sanded  floor  and  short 
white  curtains  at  the  windows  helped  to  give  the  apartment 
an  air  of  prim  neatness. 

In  a  rude  arm-chair,  of  home  manufacture,  Mr.  Grey  sat 
on  one  side  of  the  fireplace,  conversing  in  a  low  tone  with  his 
sons.  Presently  his  wife  came  softly  from  the  other  room 
and  joined  them. 

"  How  is  Agnes  ? "  asked  Frank,  looking  up  from  the 
pistol  he  was  cleaning. 

"  She  still  sleeps,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  think  yesterday  was 
the  crisis  of  the  fever.  She  has  been  rational  all  day,  though 
so  very  weak ;  and  when  she  wakes  from  this  sound  slumber 
she  will  be  better.  The  danger  is  past  now." 

"  I  hoped  to  see  her  once  more  before  we  go,"  said  Percy, 
"  but  now  that  can't  be.  You  will  keep  her  here,  I  suppose. 
She  would  be  good  company  for  you  this  winter,  and  perhaps 
some  help." 

"  If  she  is  really  homeless,  —  and  she  declared  herself  to 
be,  —  we  must  keep  her." 

"  She  '11  be  glad  to  stay,  I  guess,"  said  Frank ;  "  and 
you  '11  be  glad  to  have  her,  if  she  's  half  as  good  as  she  is 
pretty.  It  would  be  worth  something  to  have  her  to  look 
at." 

"Thee  owns  the  attraction  of  her  face,  then,"  said  his 
5 


OU  AGNES. 

mother,  smiling.  "  In  truth.  I  felt  strangely  moved  towards 
her  from  the  first,  as  if  a  white  dove  had  flown  to  me  for 
shelter  from  a  hawk ;  and  now»  after  my  care  of  her,  I  should 
be  grieved  in  spirit  to  let  her  go  forth.  Her  face  is  like  an 
innocent  baby's,  and  in  all  her  raving  she  has  uttered  noth 
ing  unseemly  for  a  pure  and  virtuous  maiden." 

"Has  she  betrayed  anything  of  her  past  history?  "  asked 
Percy. 

"  Nothing  definite.  She  has  talked  of  her  mother,  and 
then  moaned  as  if  her  mother  were  dead.  It  would  pain  thee 
to  hear  her.  She  spoke  often  of  flowers,  and  trees,  and  run 
ning  brooks,  as  if,  poor  young  thing,  she  had  a  gift  to  notice 
in  a  proper  manner  what  the  Lord  has  made ;  but  through 
all  there  ran  a  sort  of  distress  which  she  could  not  tell;  and 
when  I  besought  her  to  speak  it,  she  would  cry  or  moan,  and 
say  there  was  only  one  who  knew  her  secret,  and  when  she 
saw  him  she  could  prove  everything." 

"  Well,  now,  that 's  strange  —  master  !  Anybody  'd  a 
thought  she  'd  told  right  out  all  about  it  when  she  was  crazy," 
said  Mr.  Grey,  whose  curiosity  was  greatly  excited. 

"How  great  the  pressure  on  her  mind  must  have  been," 
said  Frank,  "  that  she  should  keep  the  secret  so  closely 
through  all  her  sickness ! " 

"  Never  saw  anything  like  it  in  this  world  !  "  ejaculated 
his  father.  "  It 's  strange  —  master  strange  —  onaccount- 
able  !  " 

For  a  few  moments  no  one  spoke.  The  boys  were  busy 
with  their  fire-arms,  and  the  parents  looked  on  oppressed  by 


THE    WAIF.  51 

the  thought  of  all  that  might  happen  before  they  saw  their 
children  again. 

"  I  think  you  will  be  able  to  live  pretty  comfortably,  even 
if  we  have  no  chance  to  come  home  again  till  next  spring ; 
and  if  the  army  should  move  south,  you  may  not  see  us  until 
then,  for  it  don't  do  to  ask  leave  of  absence  too  often.  I  was 
fortunate  in  getting  that  salt,  —  it  was  the  last  they  had  at 
the  store ;  and  now  you  have  enough  to  keep  some  birds," 
said  Percy,  "  I  advise  you  to  lay  in  a  good  supply,  if  they  are 
plenty,  next  month,  both  partridges  and  pigeons  —  " 

"  Partridges  and  pigeons,  and  pickled  pickerel,  with  pota 
toes,  might  be  palatable,  particularly  if  provisions  an't 
plenty,"  interposed  Frank,  with  a  comical  look. 

"And  dried  peas,"  suggested  his  mother,  answering  his 
smile. 

"  You  '11  live  like  princes,"  he  added,  laughing. 

"  Seems  as  if  we  'd  kind  o'  hanker  arter  something  fresh, 
though,"  said  old  Mr.  Grey,  with  a  sigh.  "  At  this  rate,  we 
shall  be  as  salt  as  Lot's  wife  afore  spring.  Howsomever, 
it 's  the  best  we  can  do.  'T  was  a  master  hard  thing,  losing 
all  that  flock  o'  sheep,  last  year ;  and,  now  we  've  been  robbed 
o'  the  beef  critters,  the  Lord  only  knows  where  we  're  ever 
going  to  get  any  fresh  meat  again." 

"  If  it  was  n't  for  thy  rheumatiz  every  winter,  thee  might 
get  a  deer  now  and  then,"  said  his  wife;  "but  we  won't 
complain.  We  shall  be  very  comfortable,  as  thee  says, 
Percy,  for  our  house  is  warm,  and  we  have  plenty  of  cloth- 


52  AGNES. 

ing.  I  wish  you  two  poor  boys  were  going  to  be  as  well 
off." 

"  Things  look  dark  enough,  and  I  dread  to  think  of  the 
winter,"  said  Percy,  gloomily.  "  Congress  either  can't  or 
won't  pay  any  of  us,  officers  or  soldiers ;  and  a  great  many 
are  discontented,  and  talk  of  resigning.  I  don't  know  as  any 
one  can  blame  them,  for  it  is  hard  for  them  to  see  their  fami 
lies  destitute,  and  a  cold  winter  coming  on.  Then,  too,  if 
something  an't  done  speedily,  there  will  be  great  suffering 
among  the  soldiers  this  winter.  I  am  very  sure  many  of 
them  haven't  a  change  of  clothing,  or  an  extra  blanket  for 
winter  nights." 

"  Where 's  the  Gineral  ?  Why  don't  he  see  to  'em  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Grey. 

"  He  does  all  he  can ;  but  there  is  apparently  a  cabal 
formed  against  him,  and  his  suggestions  are  not  attended  to. 
It 's  hard  for  such  a  man  to  see  his  opinions  neglected,  and 
his  advice  overruled,  and  the  country  going  to  destruction  in 
consequence.  I  wonder  at  his  patience.  Why,  father,  at  this 
moment  there  an't  guns  enough  to  supply  all  the  army,  and 
Congress  won't  provide  them.  It 's  a  fact  that  the  soldiers 
have  marched  to  battle  with  sticks  on  their  shoulders,  carved 
out  to  look  like  guns,  and  watched  their  chance  of  getting  a 
real  weapon  from  some  one  who  had  been  shot." 

"  You  don't  tell  me  !  I  want  to  know  !  "  Exclaimed  the 
old  man,  with  kindling  eyes.  "  Do,  for  gracious  sake,  take 
both  our  guns  with  you  when  you  go.  They  '11  help  along  a 
little." 


THEWAIF.  53 

"  0,  no,"  said  Percy,  "  I  can't  consent  to  leave  you  de 
fenceless.  What  would  you  do,  in  case  you  were  attacked  ?  " 

"  Boys,"  said  Mr.  Grey,  with  simple  pathos,  "  I  could  n't 
fight  for  my  country  anything  to  speak  of,  but  I  can  die  for 
her !  " 

The  sons  looked  at  him  and  then  at  each  other,  with  dim 
eyes  and  a  swelling  of  the  heart  that  prevented  words ;  but, 
by  a  simultaneous  impulse,  each  grasped  the  other's  hand  with 
a  mental  resolve  which  was  never  broken.  America  owes 
her  freedom  to  scenes  like  this. 

In  the  stillness  succeeding  these  last  words,  Mrs.  Grey's 
quick  ear  detected  a  faint  sound  proceeding  from  her  bed 
room,  which  opened  out  of  the  "  keeping-room,"  as  they 
called  the  kitchen,  where  the  family  usually  remained.  Tak 
ing  the  candle,  she  went  in,  and  found  her  patient  awake. 

"How  does  thee  feel  now,  dear?"  she  said,  raising  the 
feeble  head  that  she  might  arrange  the  pillows  more  com 
fortably. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Agnes,  in  a  voice  far  stronger  and 
more  natural  than  she  had  previously  used.  "  How  came  I 
here  ?  Have  I  been  long  ill  ?  " 

"  My  sons  found  thee  in  the  woods,  nearly  three  weeks  ago, 
and  brought  thee  here,  and  thee  has  been  very  sick  ever 
since.  Poor  child,  thee  has  suffered  much,"  answered  Mrs. 
Grey,  pityingly. 

"  Have  I  ?  How  much  trouble  I  must  have  been  to  you !  " 
said  the  sick  girl,  looking  wistfully  around,  as  if  striving  to 
recall  the  past. 

5* 


54  AGNES. 

"Don't  think  of  that,  dear;  thce  's  much  better  now,  and 
soon  thee  '11  be  well." 

She  made  no  reply,  but  her  face  grew  troubled  as  recollec 
tion  awakened,  and,  with  a  wild  terror  in  her  eyes,  she 
exclaimed,  at  last, 

"  Have  I  been  ill  so  long  ?  —  three  weeks  !  How  shall  I 
ever,  ever  find  him  now  ?  And  the  paper  !  • —  have  I  lost 
it  ?  Where  are  my  clothes  ?  —  0,  kind  lady,  where  are 
they?" 

She  grasped  Mrs.  Grey's  dress  with  a  pleading  gesture 
that  was  irresistible,  and  the  matron  answered,  soothingly, 

"They  are  here — all  here.  Thee  shall  have  them,  when 
thee  's  well  enough." 

This  assurance  calmed  her,  but  in  a  moment  she  said, 
plaintively, 

"  Jf  I  might  only  see  them,  so  as  to  be  sure !  Could  I  see 
them  ?  " 

"Yes,  dear,  if  thee  '11  keep  quiet.  They  are  in  the  press." 
And  Mrs.  Grey  brought  them  to  the  bedside,  adding,  play 
fully, 

"  Thee  was  dressed  in  a  strange  fashion." 

But  Agnes  did  not  seem  to  hear  her.  With  trembling 
fingers  she  drew  the  clothes  nearer,  and  began  to  search  in 
the  pockets,  and  around  the  breast,  for  something  she  could 
not  find.  Then,  suddenly  remembering,  she  cried  out, 

"  It  is  not  here.     I  put  it  in  my  cap.    Where  is  the  cap?  " 

"  Thee  had  n't  a  cap  on,  dear,  when  thee  was  found. 
Thee  must  have  lost  it  in  the  woods." 


T  II  E     W  A  I  F  .  55 

With  a  faint  moan  she  sank  back  on  the  pillows,  her  eyes 
closed,  and  a  ghastly  paleness  came  over  her  face,  as  if  she 
were  dying. 

"  Lost !  lost !  "  she  murmured,  feebly.    "  Then  all  is  lost ! " 


CHAPTER    III. 

GEN.  LEE   AND   GEN.  WASHINGTON. 

EARLY  the  next  morning  the  brothers  left  home.  The 
parting  was  sober  and  quiet,  but  not  sad.  They  went  forth 
to  danger,  perhaps  to  death ;  they  left  behind  those  whose 
existence  was  bound  up  in  theirs ;  yet  there  was  no  word  or 
thought  of  regret  on  either  side  for  the  hazard  of  lives  which 
had  been  vowed  to  the  saored  cause  of  freedom.  Striving 
for  a  result  so  vast,  they  accepted  the  chances  with  a  steadfast 
courage ;  and,  if  deep  in  the  mother's  heart  a  thrill  and  a 
pang  gave  token  of  what  her  suffering  might  be  should  those 
brave  boys  return  no  more,  her  face  wore  its  usual  expression 
of  benignant  calmness,  and  her  voice  scarcely  trembled  as  she 
said  farewell.  Only,  when  they  had  left  the  door,  as  Percy 
looked  back  with  a  last  wistful  glance,  he  saw  her  press  her 
hands  over  her  eyes,  and  then  raise  them  clasped  towards 
heaven,  and  he  knew  she  prayed  for  him  as  she  wept.  Such 
were  the  mothers  of  heroic  sons. 

Mr.  Grey's  farm  lay  among  that  range  of  hills  in  Essex 
county  which  border  the  level  lands  stretching  away  to  the 
Jersey  shore.  Clothed  in  their  native  forests,  except  where 


GEN.    LEE    AND    GEN.    WASHINGTON.  57 

occasionally  human  enterprise  had  reclaimed  the  fertile  soil, 
they  rose  one  beyond  another  in  undulating  waves,  heaving 
their  leafy  breasts  to  the  sky,  that  appeared  to  lean  down 
lovingly  and  clasp  them  with  the  glowing  zone  of  the  horizon. 

Along  the  hillside  and  valley  the  brothers  rode  slowly  in 
that  early  morning,  over  the  broken  bridge,  and  past  the  spot 
where  they  had  found  Agnes ;  and  here  Frank  recovered  his 
loquacity.  Recalling,  in  his  odd,  rattling  way,  the  events  of 
that  night,  he  dismounted  and  examined  the  shattered  tree 
still  lying  there.  The  top  had  been  twisted  off  by  lightning, 
the  larger  branches  scattered  in  every  direction,  and  some  of 
these  falling  upon  smaller  trees  had  broken  them  down.  As 
he  looked  on,  Frank  wondered  how  Agnes  escaped  death 
amid  such  a  scene  of  ruin. 

He  was  about  to  follow  Percy,  who  had  ridden  forward  as 
he  loitered,  when  his  quick  eye  detected  the  lithe  form  of  the 
Indian  girl  stealing  away  among  the  trees.  He  called  to  her, 
and,  after  a  few  moments  of  reluctance,  she  came  to  his  side. 

"  You  here,  Lawontica !  "  he  said.  "  How  came  you  here 
so  early  in  the  morning  ?  " 

She  made  some  indistinct  reply.  She  did  not  tell  him, 
poor  thing,  that  her  unsleeping  eyes  had  watched  his  house 
ever  since  the  moon  had  set,  and  her  swift  steps  had  kept 
pace  with  his  horse's  hoofs  behind  the  bushes  by  the  roadside, 
that  she  might  thus  keep  him  a  little  longer  in  view.  He 
imagined  the  meeting  was  accidental,  and  wondered  at  her 
hesitation  and  embarrassment. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked,  kindly.   "  You  look  as  if 


58 


AGNES. 


you  had  been  crying.  Tell  me  —  you  and  I  were  always 
good  friends — tell  me  what  troubles  you  !  " 

She  looked  in  his  face  earnestly,  and  shook  her  head. 
Something  in  her  expression  made  him  add,  "  Are  you  sorry 
I  am  going  away  again  ?  " 

"  Many  times  white  brave  he  go  fight ;  one  time,  two 
time,  three  time,  he  come  back.  Last  time,  s'pose  he  go,  he 
no  come  back  any  more  !  " 

Her  voice  was  low  and  plaintive,  and  again  her  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  which  she  struggled  to  suppress.  Frank 
replied,  gayly, 

"  But  this  is  not  the  last  time  I  'm  going,  you  know  ;  no,  not 
by  a  long  chalk.  There 's  considerable  good  fight  left  in  me 
yet,  before  I  'm  made  a  target  of.  You  '11  see  me  back  safe 
and  sound  before  long,  you  little  beauty ;  so  don't  spoil  your 
pretty  eyes  crying  for  me." 

The  dark  face  was  bent  down,  and  as  he  sat  on  horseback  he 
could  not  see  the  blush  of  pleasure  that  stole  over  it,  or  the 
brilliant  light  gleaming  in  the  eyes  he  had  complimented ;  but 
she  took  his  hand,  and  pressed  it  lightly  and  timidly  between 
her  own.  The  unusual  action  touched  his  generous  heart. 

"  You  're  a  good  girl,  Lawontica  ;  you  won't  forget  a  fellow 
when  he's  out  of  sight!"  he  said,  with  a  tone  of  deeper 
feeling  than  he  was  accustomed  to  use  in  addressing  her. 

"  No,  no  !  "  she  answered,  eagerly.  "  You  mother,  he  say 
white  man's  God  he  no  like  'um  fight,  he  no  like  'um  scalp ; 
like  'um  all  good,  and  love  everybody;  so  every  day,  every 


GEN.    LEE    AND     GEN.    WASHINGTON.  59 

night,  me  pray  Saysoos  *  way  up  there,    s'pose  you  go  fight 
some  time,  he  no  let  bad  man  kill  you." 

She  raised  her  head,  pointing  upward  as  she  spoke,  and 
was  so  beautiful  in  her  unconscious  grace,  that  Frank,  moved 
by  a  sudden  impulse,  bent  down  and  kissed  her  forehead.  It 
was  the  first  time  a  man's  lips  had  ever  touched  her  face. 
She  started  violently,  with  a  bound  like  a  young  fawn,  and 
stood  a  few  paces  distant,  her  heart  beating  with  such  wild, 
uncontrollable  emotion,  that  for  an  instant  her  whole  figure 
trembled  and  swayed  as  if  she  would  have  fallen.  But, 
before  Frank  could  speak,  she  controlled  herself,  and  sought 
to  hide  the  delight  which  thrilled  every  nerve  beneath  an 
affectation  of  anger. 

"  Whoosh !  away  with  you  !  "  she  exclaimed,  pouting  ; 
"you  come  too  near.  Indian  brave  no  do  so  — no  dare  do 
so ! "  she  added,  with  a  glance  so  full  of  arch  gayety  that 
Frank  laughed  aloud. 

"  If  you  don't  like  it,  come  and  give  it  back  to  me.  You 
won't?  —  Well,  then,  keep  it  till  I  return,  and  I  will  take 
it  of  you  with  interest.  Pooh,  Lawontica  !  you  are  not  really 
offended  ?  What  is  the  harm  of  a  kiss  ?  "  he  added,  as  she 
frowned  again  and  stamped  her  foot,  with  an  annoyance  no 
longer  feigned,  for  his  light  tone  had  wounded  her. 

But  she  did  not  heed  his  proffered  hand,  and  slowly,  with 
a  backward  motion,  withdrew  to  the  shadow  of  the  trees  near 
the  road,  where  she  stood  regarding  him  with  a  wistful,  sor 
rowing  glance.  He  was  vexed  with  himself  for  having  teased 

*  Jesus. 


60  AGNES. 

her,  though  unintentionally ;  and,  too  kind-hearted  to  be  able 
to  leave  her  thus,  he  threw  himself  from  his  horse,  and, 
approaching  her  retreat,  took  her  hand,  saying,  earnestly, 

"  Don't  be  cross  with  me,  for  you  know  I  like  you  ever  so 
much,  Lawontica  !  and  I  can't  go  away  and  leave  you  angry. 
Let  me  hear  you  laugh  before  I  go,  for  your  laugh  is  musical 
and  cheery  as  the  sound  of  sleigh-bells.  That 's  right ! 
Good-by,  how,  and  remember  you're  to  think  of  me  often 
while  I  am  gone." 

He  shook  hands  heartily  with  her,  sprang  into  the  saddle, 
and  galloped  away.  She  had  laughed  nervously  as  he  spoke, 
but  now  tears  poured  over  her  cheeks  like  rain,  and  she 
stretched  out  her  arms  with  a  passionate  gesture  towards  his 
receding  form. 

"  Migwe  !  day  lumool  I  —  yapchoo  —  yapchoo  !  *  "  she  said, 
in  the  liquid  syllables  of  her  native  tongue,  and  sank  down 
upon  the  mossy  bank  at  her  feet  to  indulge  a  revery  of  mingled 
pain  and  pleasure.  Frank  could  not  hear  the  fervent  vow ; 
he  had  no  suspicion  of  the  absorbing  emotion  he  had  excited ; 
but,  as  he  looked  back  and  saw  her  drooping  figure  still  in 
the  place  where  he  had  left  her,  a  warmer  feeling  arose  in  his 
heart  than  he  had  ever  known  previously  for  this  companion 
of  his  childhood. 

He  overtook  Percy  in  a  little  while,  and  they  proceeded 
rapidly  on  their  journey  ;  but,  being  compelled  to  make  long 
detours  to  avoid  parties  of  British  soldiers,  who  at  that  time 
overran  Jersey,  they  were  two  days  in  reaching  the  army, 

*  I  will  remember  you  !  —  forever  —  forever  ! 


GEN.    LEE    AND    (JEN.    WASHINGTON.  61 

then  stationed  at  White  Plains.  Here  Frank  joined  his 
division,  while  his  brother  went  to  Kingsbridge,  where  Gen. 
Lee  had  been  placed  to  guard  the  rear. 

This  position  was  fully  exposed  to  the  enemy,  and  the 
commander,  beside  the  ceaseless  vigilance  required  to  main 
tain  it,  exerted  his  restless  and  fiery  nature  in  harassing  the 
outposts  of  the  British  army.  For  several  days  Major  Grey 
found  little  time  for  thought  or  sentiment,  amid  the  fatiguing 
duties  that  occupied  him. 

The  movements  of  the  American  army,  slowly  retreating 
from  Haerlem  Heights  after  the  evacuation  of  New  York, 
were  much  embarrassed  by  the  deficiency  of  wagons  and 
horses  for  transporting  the  baggage  and  artillery,  which  were 
continually  liable  to  attack  from  columns  of  the  enemy,  who 
were  often  in  sight.  To  protect  these  required  constant 
skirmishing ;  but  the  troops  fought  courageously,  the  enter 
prise  had  been  skilfully  planned,  and  Gen.  Lee  at  length 
brought  his  division  in  safety  to  join  the  main  army  at  White 
Plains. 

Here  a  general  action  was  for  some  days  expected,  as  Sir 
William  Howe  had  a  large  number  of  troops  posted  within  a 
few  miles ;  but,  with  Bunker  Hill  fresh  in  his  recollection, 
he  concluded  not  to  risk  a  battle  where  the  Americans  had  a 
fair  prospect  of  success,  and  quietly  withdrew  southward. 

Gen.  Washington  now  anticipated  and  determined  to  frus 
trate  the  design  of  the  British  commander,  which  was  to 
march  through  Jersey  to  Philadelphia,  and  obtain  possession 
of  that  city.  Sending  Gen.  Heath,  with  a  large  detachment, 
6 


62  AGNES. 

to  defend  the  passes  of  the  Highlands,  he  crossed  the  Hudson 
with  the  majority  of  the  troops,  leaving  Gen.  Lee  with  about 
seven  thousand  men  to  defend  the  ground  then  occupied. 

Several  weeks  had  thus  been  employed,  and  to  Percy  Grey 
the  constant  excitement,  nay,  even  the  danger  and  discourage 
ment  of  their  circumstances,  had  been  a  relief  from  the  sad 
memory  of  his  private  griefs,  and  from  the  rankling  thought 
of  Mr.  Chester's  last  words.  His  gallant  conduct,  his  reck 
less  brav.ery,  had  won  him  distinguished  approbation,  which 
could  not  fail  to  awaken  pride ;  and,  since  hope  can  never 
wholly  die  out  of  young  hearts,  there  had  been  moments  when, 
through  the  weary  march,  or  by  the  lonely  night-fire,  his 
dreamy  and  enthusiastic  temperament  had  abstracted  him 
from  the  gloomy  scenes  around,  to  a  bright  realm  in  the 
future,  of  which  Evelyn,  with  her  wonderful  beauty,  her 
gentle  dignity,  and  her  entire  sympathy  with  him,  was  at  once 
the  enchantress  and  the  queen. 

It  was  a  harder  task  to  be  forced  to  comparative  idleness 
for  some  weeks  longer ;  —  to  see  the  army  melting  away  by 
the  departure  of  those  whose  term  of  enlistment  had  expired, 
and  who  could  not  be  induced  to  a  new  engagement ;  to  mark 
how  the  first  zeal  of  patriotism  was  yielding  to  the  pressure 
of  poverty,  hardship,  and  defeat,  and  to  hear  that  even  the 
personal  efforts  of  the  beloved  and  honored  commander-iu- 
chief  had  no  power  over  the  discouraged  troops,  who  were 
deserting  him  by  hundreds  in  the  very  face  of  the  enemy. 

Knowing  that  Gen.  Lee  had  received  orders  to  hasten  to 
Washington's  relief,  it  was  a  matter  of  surprise  and  annoy- 


GEN.     LEE      AND      GEN.     WASHINGTON.  63 

ance  to  his  officers  that  they  were  thus  delayed  uselessly, 
when  a  day  or  an  hour  might  be  of  infinite  importance.  It 
was  therefore  with  impatient  curiosity  that  Major  Grey  one 
morning  received  a  request  to  wait  upon  his  general,  and 
proceeded  at  once  to  his  abode. 

He  found  Gen.  Lee  alone,  amid  his  rude  camp  surround 
ings,  seated  by  a  pine  table,  on  which  were  some  papers,  a 
map,  a  few  stumps  of  well-worn  quills,  and  a  broken  cup  con 
taining  ink.  He  looked  up  when  his  young  aid-de-camp 
entered,  and  motioned  him  to  sit  down  while  he  continued 
writing.  As  Percy  warmed  his  hands  over  a  pan  of  coals,  — 
the  only  means  of  heat  the  apartment  afforded,  this  chilly  day, 
—  he  had  time  to  reflect  on  the  strange  position  and  circum 
stances  of  this  brilliant  soldier,  whose  meteoric  career  had 
already  run  through  almost  every  vicissitude  of  life  and 
fortune. 

He  was  rather  above  medium  height,  and  well  proportioned, 
with  a  forehead  betokening  fine  intellectual  endowments,  and 
eyes  full  of  fire;  but  his  nose  was  hooked  like  a  parrot's  beak, 
and  his  full  lips  had  a  cynical  curve,  while  his  coarse  com 
plexion,  and  the  heavy  formation  of  his  chin  and  throat,  gave 
him  a  sensual  and  unpleasant  expression.  He  wore  the  dress 
usual  to  his  rank,  decorated  with  one  or  two  military  badges 
gained  in  Poland  and  Russia;  but  such  were  his  slovenly 
habits,  that  every  article  of  his  apparel  was  more  or  less 
soiled  and  defaced.  A  large  stag-hound  sat  near,  resting  his 
nose  on  the  knee  which  had  been  surrendered  to  him,  looking 
wistfully  into  his  master's  face,  and  bearing  patiently  the 


64  AGNES. 

hard  pinches  which  his  ears  occasionally  received.  Other 
dogs,  of  lower  degree,  lay  under  the  table  and  about  the  floor ; 
for  Gen.  Lee  had  a  passion  for  these  animals,  and  he  now 
alternately  caressed  his  favorite  and  ran  his  hand  through 
his  own  thickly-clustering  locks,  with  such  nervous  violence  that 
they  stood  out  from  his  head  in  all  directions.  His  whole 
aspect  manifested  such  ill-humor  and  impatience,  that  Percy 
was  not  surprised  when,  having  finished  writing,  he  turned 
abruptly,  and,  with  an  oath,  exclaimed, 

"  See  there,  Grey  !  Read  this  letter  from  Gen.  Washing 
ton  !  Is  that  the  way  to  write  to  a  man  like  me  ?  Am  I  to  be 
ordered  about  like  a  whipt  school-boy  ?  and,  after  all  I-  have 
sacrificed  to  aid  this  war,  are  my  opinions  respecting  it  to  be 
thus  set  aside  as  of  no  value  ?  I  ordered  Heath  to  transport 
two  thousand  men  across  the  river,  and  apprise  the  general  of 
his  approach ;  but  that  great  man,  as  I  might  have  expected, 
intrenched  himself  behind  the  letter  of  his  instructions,  and 
refused  to  part  with  a  single  file,  though  I  undertook  to  replace 
them  with  a  part  of  my  own.  I  sent  him  word  I  was  com 
mander  on  this  side  the  water,  and  I  must  and  would  be 
obeyed ;  and  he  treated  the  message  with  silent  contempt. 
And  now  Gen.  Washington  approves  his  disobedience,  and 
orders  me  to  proceed  with  the  army.  It  is  too  vexatious  ! 
By  heaven,  I  will  take  my  own  time  for  the  march !  Under 
these  circumstances  the  order  is  an  insult.  Read  it,  my  dear 
fellow,  and  see  if  you  don't  think  so." 

The  letter  was  as  follows  : 


GEN.     LEE     AND     GEN.     WASHINGTON.  65 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  I  was  just  favored  with  your  letter  of  tho 
30th  ult.  Having  written  to  you  fully,  both  yesterday  and 
to-day,  concerning  my  situation,  it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to 
add  much  at  this  time.  You  will  readily  agree  that  I  have 
sufficient  cause  for  anxiety,  and  for  wishing  your  arrival  as 
soon  as  possible.  The  sooner  you  can  join  me  with  your 
division,  the  sooner  the  service  will  be  benefited.  As  to 
bringing  any  of  the  troops  under  General  Heath,  I  cannot 
consent  to  it.  The  posts  they  are  at  and  the  passes  through 
the  Highlands  being  of  the  utmost  importance,  they  must  bo 
guarded  by  good  men.  I  would  have  you  give  me  frequent 
advices  of  your  approach.  Upon  proper  information  in  this 
instance  much  may  depend. 

"  I  am,  &c.  &c., 

"  GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 

Having  read  it,  Percy  remained  a  moment  uncertain  what 
to  say.  Its  temperate  tone,  so  free  from  the  impatience  the 
writer  might  justly  have  expressed  at  a  delay  so  hazardous, 
impressed  him  deeply;  and  he  was  surprised  that  its  effect 
had  been  so  different  upon  the  irritable  man  beside  him.  At 
length,  seeing  the  general  waited  for  some  expression  of 
opinion,  he  said,  respectfully, 

"  You  will  find  us  all  ready  to  move  whenever  you  give 
the  word.  General  Washington  must  feel  the  most  intense 
anxiety,  and  no  doubt  he  is  in  great  difficulty  at  present." 

"  No  more   so  than  I   am,"  replied  Gen.  Lee,  sharply 
"  Indeed,  my  condition  is  only  better  than  his  in  that  I  hav 
6* 


66  A  U  N  E  S  . 

a  choice  of  difficulties.  If  I  stay  in  this  province,  I  risk  my 
self  and  army ;  if  I  do  not  stay,  the  province  is  lost  forever. 
I  have  neither  guides,  cavalry,  medicines,  money,  shoes,  or 
stockings.  Tories  are  in  my  front,  my  rear,  and  on  my  flanks. 
The  mass  of  the  people  are  strangely  contaminated,  and,  unless 
something  unexpected  turns  up,  we  are  lost.  Into  this  situa 
tion  he  has  thrown  me,  and  now  I  am  not  to  be  allowed  to 
use  my  own  judgment  in  regard  to  the  time  and  manner  of 
extricating  myself !  By  heavens,  North  and  Mansfield,  if 
they  had  succeeded,  could  not  have  established  a  more  odious 
despotism !  " 

Percy  hardly  knew  how  to  frame  his  answer  so  as  to 
express  his  sentiments  without  uttering  something  disrespect 
ful  to  his  general,  and  therefore  only  replied, 

"  Would  it  not  be  well  to  send  word  to  the  commander-in- 
chief  respecting  your  opinions  ?  He  has  often  shown  how 
highly  he  values  your  military  skill,  and  I  think  could  not 
fail  to  listen  to  any  feasible  scheme  which  would  be  for  the 
benefit  of  both.  At  such  a  time  as  this,  uncertainty  on  that 
point  must  be  very  trying." 

"  That  is  quite  true,"  said  his  hearer,  in  a  calmer  tone, 
"  but  he  might  trust  both  my  fidelity  and  my  skill.  I  have 
not  usually  failed  when  thrown  upon  my  own  resources.  I 
should  have  marched  to-morrow,  but  have  received  intelli 
gence  that  Rogers'  corps,  part  of  the  light  horse,  and  another 
brigade,  lie  in  so  exposed  a  situation  as  to  present  us  the 
fairest  opportunity  of  carrying  them  off.  If  we  succeed,  it 


GEN.     LEE     AND     GEN.     WASHINGTON.  67 

will  have  a  great  effect,  and  amply  compensate  for  two  or 
three  days'  delay." 

"  But  these  are  not  the  general's  orders,"  Percy  ventured 
to  say. 

"  And  you  think  an  old  soldier  like  me  should  know  enough 
to  obey  orders  —  hey,  young  man?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  since  you  force  me  to  say  it,"  replied  Percy, 
firmly. 

"Very  well  —  the  theory  is  good;  but  I  am  now  on  a 
separate  command,  and  must  use  my  own  judgment.  I  have 
a  plan  which,  if  I  can  carry  it  out,  will  relieve  Gen.  Wash 
ington  more  effectually  than  my  presence  in  his  camp  would 
do.  If  I  receive  certain  information  from  New  York,  we 
may  yet  take  up  our  winter  quarters  in  that  city.  However, 
more  of  that  by  and  by.  The  scheme  is  not  ripe  enough  to 
communicate ;  and,  meantime,  I  shall  cross  the  river  with 
as  large  a  force  as  possible,  and  fall  on  the  rear  or  flank  of 
the  enemy,  as  occasion  offers.  I  have  written  several  letters 
to  the  general  which  I  think  he  cannot  have  received,  since 
his  last  is  so  peremptory  ;  and  I  wish  you  to  take  the  one  I 
have  just  completed,  and  give  it  into  his  hands.  Then  I 
shall  be  sure  it  reaches  him.  You  will  also  take  one  to  Gen. 
Heath,  as  you  will  be  compelled  to  ascend  the  river  as  far  as 
the  Highlands  before  you  can  cross  with  safety.  You  will 
then  take  whatever  course  secures  to  you  the  safest  and  speed 
iest  journey,  but  I  am  told  that  after  you  leave  Haverstraw 
the  western  road  by  Kakiat  is  most  advisable.  Further  than 


68  AGNES  . 

this  I  have  no  instructions  to  give,  and  therefore  I  wish  you 
Ion  voyage" 

While  he  had  been  speaking  he  sealed  and  directed  the 
letters,  and  now,  having  received  them,  Major  Grey  rose  to 
depart.  The  hound,  who  had  taken  a  fancy  to  him,  which  he 
expressed  in  a  dignified,  patronizing  manner,  followed  him  to 
the  door,  but  Gen.  Lee  recalled  him  with  a  tone  so  jealous 
that  Percy  looked  back  and  smiled.  The  former  noticed  the 
smile,  and  said,  half  in  sport,  half  earnestly, 

"  Don't  force  me  to  quarrel  with  you,  Major  Grey. 
Whether  it  is  from  a  cynical  disposition  or  a  laudable  misan 
thropy,  I  know  not,  but  it  is  certain  I  have  had  a  real  affec 
tion  for  very  few  men,  and  you  are  among  the  very  few.  But 
if  you  are  going  to  steal  Poniatow's  affections  from  me,  mine 
for  you  will  vanish." 

"  I  am  surprised  at  what  you  say  of  yourself,"  replied 
Percy,  laughing.  "A  man  who  has  given  up  so  much  as  you 
have  for  the  sake  of  a  principle,  and  for  the  good  of  mankind, 
cannot  surely  be  cold-hearted  or  a  misanthrope.  You  wrong 
yourself,  General  Lee." 

"  No,"  said  he,  patting  his  four-footed  favorite.  "  I  have 
told  you  but  the  truth ;  and,  paradoxical  as  it  appears,  if 
you  will  examine  history,  you  will  find  all  or  almost  all  the 
enthusiasts  for  general  liberty  had  the  reputation  of  being 
cynically  disposed.  So  hope  nothing  from  whatever  you 
may  have  supposed  of  me  in  that  regard ;  and,  I  repeat  it, 
be  careful  how  you  court  Poniatow.  I  allow  no  rivals. 
'  Who  steals  my  purse  '  (just  now,  in  the  depreciated  state  of 


GEN.     LEE    AND    GEN.     WASHINGTON.  69 

Congressional  currency,  and  the  probable  confiscation  of  my 
English  estates)  '  steals  trash ; '  but  who  steals  my  dog,  let 
him  beware ! " 

"  I  will  be  careful.  But,  surely,  if  I  prove  too  irresistible 
to  Poniatow,  you  will  not  punish  my  involuntary  trans 
gression  so  severely  as  to  withdraw  your  friendship,  especially 
as  you  have  so  many  dogs  left  ?  "  answered  Percy,  glancing 
at  the  half-dozen  who  had  now  collected  around  their  master. 

"  Fine-looking  fellows  too,  they  are,"  Lee  rejoined,  survey 
ing  them  with  pride.  "  I  am  called  whimsical  and  a  lover  of 
dogs,  and  I  plead  guilty  to  the  charge.  Until  the  common 
routine  of  mankind  is  changed,  I  shall  wish  to  remain  eccen 
tric  ;  and  when  my  honest  quadruped  friends  are  equalled  by 
bipeds  in  fidelity,  gratitude,  and  good  sense,  I  will  promise  to 
become  as  warm  a  philanthropist  as  Mr.  Addison  himself 
affected  to  be.  But  I  am  keeping  you  from  your  journey. 
Au  revoir" 

Percy  bowed  and  withdrew  to  make  ready  for  his  mission, 
and  then  set  out  for  Peekskill,  where,  having  delivered  his 
letter  to  Gren.  Heath,  he  crossed  the  river  and  proceeded 
towards  Jersey.  The  British  had  possession  of  all  the  towns 
and  roads  near  the  river,  and  the  necessity  of  taking  a  circu 
itous  route,  together  with  the  bad  state  of  the  ground,  which 
made  rapid  travelling  impossible,  so  hindered  his  progress 
that  it  was  some  days  before  he  could  reach  his  destination 
But  he  was  pleased  to  find  that  the  spirit  of  submission  so 
generally  manifested  by  the  inhabitants  of  those  provinces 
during  the  autumn  had  been  effectually  checked  by  the 


70  AGNES  . 

license  and  outrages  of  the  enemy ;  and,  though  the  militia 
were  so  slow  in  answering  Gen.  Washington's  earnest  appeal 
for  aid,  their  tardiness  proceeded  from  timidity,  and  not  from 
indifference.  In  many  of  the  small  farm-houses,  where  he 
stopped  at  night,  he  found  hearts  boiling  with  indignation,  or 
mourning  in  hopelessness,  as  they  spoke  of  the  American 
army ;  and  on  some  occasions,  where  he  deemed  it  safe  to 
reveal  his  connection  with  it,  the  women  of  the  family  sat 
up  till  morning  to  make  their  flannel  sheets  into  garments  for 
the  destitute  soldiers. 

Gen.  Washington  had  just  completed  his  slow  and  painful 
retreat  from  New  York  to  the  Delaware,  with  the  remnant  of 
his  army,  now  dwindled  to  less  than  three  thousand  men. 
Destitute  of  food  or  clothing,  travelling  with  tattered  gar 
ments  and  naked  or  stockingless  feet  over  frozen  ground  and 
through  deep  snows,  pierced  by  the  chilling  winter  wind,  lying 
down  to  their  comfortless  rest  at  night  in  many  cases  without 
blankets  or  tents,  pressed  by  a  victorious  army,  in  the  face  of 
repeated  disaster  and  defeat,  without  enthusiasm,  and  almost 
without  hope,  that  heroic  band  toiled  on,  upheld  by  the  magic 
of  a  thought,  and  by  the  strong  will  which  conquers  fate. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE   UNKULY   MEMBER. 

WHEN  Major  Grey  reached  the  American  camp,  at  that 
time  posted  on  the  western  bank  of  the  Delaware,  he  found 
it  in  great  confusion  and  distress.  The  soldiers  were  ema 
ciated  by  the  hardships  they  had  endured,  and  in  their  tat 
tered  clothing  looked  more  like  a  collection  of  scarecrows  than 
like  an  army  on  whom  rested  the  success  of  the  most  glorious 
struggle  the  world  ever  saw.  The  British  lay  in  great  force 
at  Trenton,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  and  the  Amer 
ican  officers  were  busy  in  establishing  lines  of  defence  at 
various  angles  on  the  banks,  so  as  to  hinder  any  attempt  upon 
Philadelphia.  The  soldiers  worked  steadily,  and,  for  the 
most  part,  without  murmuring,  though  the  dull  despair  of 
their  faces  was  far  different  from  the  enthusiasm  such  a  scene 
of  hurry  and  bustle  generally  produced.  Arriving  at  head 
quarters,  Percy  was  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  com 
mander.  He  was  at  that  moment  in  close  conference  with 
Lord  Stirling  and  Gen.  Mercer,  but  rose  from  his  seat  hastily, 
when  a  messenger  from  Gen.  Lee  was  announced,  and,  seizing 
Major  Grey's  hand,  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of  anxiety, 


72  AGNES. 

"  You  are  welcome,  sir  !  I  hope  you  come  to  say  that  Gen. 
Lee  is  not  far  distant.  His  presence,  and  that  of  his  army, 
"are  now  of  the  utmost  importance." 

"  I  regret  to  be  obliged  to  inform  your  excellency  that 
when  I  left  White  Plains  Gen.  Lee  was  yet  posted  there; 
but  he  has  undoubtedly  left  before  this  time,  and  I  am  the 
bearer  of  a  letter  which  will  explain  his  delay." 

An  expression  almost  like  a  convulsion  of  pain  passed 
over  Washington's  face  as  he  heard  this  reply,  and  for  a 
moment  he  held  the  letter  clenched  in  both  hands,  as  if  he 
would  crush  it;  but  the  impatience  passed  away  without 
further  manifestation,  leaving  his  noble  countenance  calm  and 
dignified  as  before,  llequesting  Percy  to  be  seated,  he 
walked  to  the  window  and  read  the  missive.  It  ran  thus, 

"DEAR  GENERAL:  I  have  received  your  pressing  letter; 
since  which,  intelligence  was  sent  me  that  you  had  quitted 
Brunswick,  so  that  it  is  impossible  to  know  where  I  can  join 
you.  But,  although  I  should  not  be  able  to  join  you  at  all, 
the  service  which  I  can  render  you  will,  I  hope,  be  full  as  effi 
cacious.  The  northern  army  has  already  advanced  nearer  to 
Morristown  than  I  am.  We  shall,  on  the  whole,  compose  an 
army  of  five  thousand  good  troops,  in  spirits.  I  should  imag 
ine,  dear  General,  that  it  may  be  of  service  to  communicate 
this  to  the  troops  immediately  under  your  command.  It 
may  encourage  them,  and  startle  the  enemy.  In  fact,  their 
confidence  must  be  risen  to  a  prodigious  height,  if  they  pursue 


THJBUNKULYMEMBEP.  .  73 

you  with  so  formidable  a  body  hanging  on  their  flank  and 
rear. 

"  I  shall  clothe  my  people  at  the  expense  of  the  Tories, 
which  has  a  doubly  good  effect.  It  puts  them  in  spirits  and 
comfort,  and  is  a  correction  of  the  iniquities  of  the  foes  of 
liberty.  It  is  paltry  to  think  of  our  personal  affairs  when  the 
whole  is  at  stake ;  but  I  entreat  you  to  order  some  of  your 
suite  to  take  out  of  the  way  of  danger  my  favorite  mare, 
which  is  at  Wilson's,  three  miles  beyond  Princeton. 
"  I  am,  dear  General,  yours, 

"  CHARLES  LEE." 

"  Good  God  !  "  exclaimed  Washington,  "  and  he  can  think 
of  that  at  a  moment  when  our  men  are  dying  of  cold  and 
hunger,  and  the  salvation  of  our  country  trembles  in  the 
balance !  " 

His  vehement  manner,  and  the  distress  visible  in  his  com 
pressed  lips  and  contracted  brows,  startled  his  auditors ;  for, 
such  was  the  serene  height  with  which  his  soul  possessed 
itself  in  patience,  that  few  ever  saw  him  so  deeply  moved. 
Recovering  his  usual  aspect  in  a  short  time,  he  continued, 
more  calmly, 

"  Do  you  know  the  contents  of  this  letter,  Major  Grey,  and 
am  I  to  suppose  that  Gen.  Lee's  officers  consider  his  course 
advisable,  notwithstanding  the  urgency  of  my  repeated  re 
quests  ?  " 

"  I  assure  your  excellency,"  said  Percy,  "  that  we  are  all 
very  anxious  to  move  to  your  assistance,  and  we  cannot  account 
7 


74  A  G  N  Ji  is  . 

for  the  present  inaction.  I  had  supposed,  from  some  remark 
of  Gen.  Lee,  that  his  letter  would  explain  it  to  your  satisfac 
tion." 

"  He  explains  nothing !  "  replied  Washington.  "  Would  to 
God,  he  did !  for  it  is  painful  to  be  compelled  to  doubt  a  com 
rade  and  a  soldier,  on  whom  such  confidence  has  been  placed. 
What  do  you  suppose  his  motive  can  be,  in  thus  delaying  his 
march?" 

"  He  thought  it  imprudent  to  risk  the  loss  of  the  province 
by  withdrawing  so  many  of  the  troops." 

"  It  is  an  ill-timed  prudence ! "  rejoined  the  general, 
sternly. 

"  He  spoke,  also,  of  some  plan  not  yet  to  be  developed,  by 
which  he  hoped  to  render  you  more  effectual  assistance  than 
his  presence  would  afford.  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  add  that 
I  found,  Lieut.-Col.  Vose,  at  Peekskill,  with  three  regiments, 
amounting  to  between  five  and  six  hundred  men,  who  had 
come  down  from  Albany,  and  are  moving  this  way.  They 
had  been  waiting  a  day  or  two  for  Gen.  Lee." 

"  Yes,  he  speaks  of  them,"  said  Washington,  "  but  seems 
to  imagine  they  have  crossed  the  river.  Gen.  Lee's  conduct 
is  unaccountable,  gentlemen,  unaccountable." 

"  I  am  sure  he  cannot  be  aware  how  greatly  you  need 
him,"  said  Percy,  "  and  he  would  sincerely  regret  displeasing 
your  excellency." 

"  Unfortunately,  regrets,  even  if  sincere,  cannot  atone  for 
past  delinquencies,"  said  Washington.  "  The  absence  of  his 
division  of  the  army,  just  at  this  crisis,  may  be  fatal  to  us. 


THE     UN  11ULV    MEMBER.  ft 

The  inhabitants  of  this  state,  on  whose  aid  I  counted,  are 
either  disaffected  or  intimidated,  and  the  militia  have  cruelly 
disappointed  me.  The  Maryland  and  Jersey  militia  deserted 
us  the  very  hour  their  time  of  service  had  expired,  although 
the  enemy  was  then  in  sight ;  and  the  Pennsylvania  troops 
have  not  yet  arrived,  except  part  of  a  German  battalion,  and 
a  company  of  light  infantry.  In  such  a  cause  as  this  it  is 
impossible  to  despair ;  but  I  cannot  conceal  from  myself  or 
you  that  our  fortunes  never  looked  so  dark." 

He  turned  away  as  he  spoke,  and,  going  into  an  inner  apart 
ment,  closed  the  door  behind  him.  Some  further  conversation 
ensued  among  the  officers  thus  left  together ;  and,  although 
Percy,  as  in  duty  bound,  endeavored  to  defend  Gen.  Lee  from 
their  extreme  displeasure,  he  was  forced  to  acknowledge  his 
conduct  mysterious  and  ill-judged. 

Upon  crossing  the  Delaware,  General  Washington  had 
established  his  head-quarters  at  a  country-house  belonging 
to  a  Mr.  Berkely.  A  servant  of  the  family  now  entered 
with  refreshments,  of  which  they  were  all  glad  to  partake. 
More  than  an  hour  had  elapsed  before  the  commander  again 
joined  them.  Giving  Major  Grey  a  despatch  for  his  superior 
officer,  he  said, 

"  May  I  hope  that  you  will  use  all  possible  haste  in 
delivering  this  ?  I  shall  be  glad  if  you  can  this  very  hour  set 
out  on  your  return.  Gen.  Lee  must  be  on  the  way  before  this 
time,  and,  therefore,  your  journey  may  not  be  as  long  in  going 
back  as  in  coming.  I  beg  you  to  impress  upon  him  the  abso 
lute  necessity  of  hastening,  if  he  would  be  of  any  service,  and 


76  AGNES. 

represent  to  him  our  situation  as  you  find  it.  I  have  ordered 
a  large  number  of  boats  procured,  which  will  be  still  retained 
at  Tinicum  under  a  strong  guard,  to  facilitate  your  passage 
across  the  Delaware,  whenever  the  troops  shall  arrive  there. 
Meantime,"  he  added,  taking  Percy's  hand  in  a  cordial  grasp, 
"  do  not  allow  anything  I  have  said  to  discourage  you,  or 
any  over  whom  you  have  influence.  Notwithstanding  our 
present  peril,  I  have  hope  for  the  future.  My  trust  is  in  the 
God  of  battles !  " 

As  he  uttered  these  words  his  eyes  beamed  with  a  radiance 
that  lit  all  his  grave,  firm  features  with  cheerfulness  and 
courage ;  and,  standing  there  with  one  hand  half  raised,  and 
his  majestic  figure  erect,  he  seemed  to  those  who  listened  like 
one  inspired.  From  that  hour  Percy  Grey  never  despaired 
of  the  cause  which  had  such  a  champion. 

The  day  after  he  sent  away  his  aid-de-camp,  Gen.  Lee 
broke  up  the  encampment  at  White  Plains,  and  began  his 
march  to  join  the  main  army.  Many  companies  in  his  own 
division  were  suffering  greatly  for  want  of  shoes,  and  other 
clothing  suitable  for  the  inclement  season.  The  roads  were 
in  a  wretched  state,  and  they  were  obliged  to  take  a  circuitous 
route  to  avoid  a  premature  engagement  with  the  enemy.  Yet 
all  these  things  could  hardly  account  for  the  length  of  time 
consumed,  and  both  officers  and  men  were  becoming  impatient, 
and  beginning  to  suspect  ulterior  designs  on  the  part  of  their 
commander.  These  suspicions  were  still  further  strengthened 
when,  after  they  entered  Jersey,  early  one  afternoon,  he  gave 


THE     UNRULY     MEMBER.  77 

orders  to  halt  in  the  vicinity  of  Baskenridge,  although  they 
knew  the  British  were  but  twenty  miles  distant. 

For  several  days  those  most  familiar  had  noticed  a  ner 
vousness  and  abstraction  unusual  to  him ;  and  he  started  at 
every  sudden  salutation,  and  scrutinized  every  passing  trav 
eller,  as  if  expecting  to  meet  some  one  who  came  not.  On 
this  afternoon,  as  an  officer  remonstrated  against  the  early 
encampment,  he  answered,  with  some  asperity,  that  from  this 
point  they  would  move  on  fast  enough,  for  he  should  no  longer 
be  undecided  where  to  go;  and,  as  evening  drew  near,  he 
ordered  his  horse,  and,  taking  a  small  guard,  rode  away  over 
the  fields,  now  buried  beneath  drifts  of  snow.  . 

The  country  at  this  point  was  wild  and  broken,  with  steep 
hills  and  ridges,  along  whose  narrow  valleys  ran  streams 
swollen  into  rivers  by  the  winter  rains,  and  now  hardened  into 
broad  sheets  of  ice.  The  path  was  narrow,  and  winding 
through  deep  passes  where  the  laden  trees  sent  down  an 
avalanche  of  snow  upon  the  traveller,  and  up  bleak  hill-sides, 
where  their  horses  could  with  difficulty  obtain  footing ;  but 
Gen.  Lee  appeared  to  find  his  way  by  instinct,  and  at 
length  came  out  on  a  road  bearing  marks  of  more  frequent 
travel.  Having  passed  a  few-farm  houses,  he  drew  his  rein  at 
the  door  of  one,  before  which  a  rude  sign-board  creaked  dis 
mally  in  the  wind. 

"  This  is  Baskenridge,  according  to  description ;  and  this 
is  White's  tavern,  I  suppose,  by  the  music  of  this  gallows- 
post  !  "  he  said,  to  one  of  his  companions.  "  We  will  dis- 
7* 


78  A  G  N  E  S  . 

mount  here,  and  may  have  to  remain  all  night,  if  the  person 
I  expect  to  meet  has  not  already  arrived." 

They  entered,  and  found  a  small  fire  burning  on  the  hearth 
of  a  spacious  but  comfortless-looking  room,  evidently  used 
for  the  reception  of  visitors,  and  while  they  warmed  their 
half-frozen  fingers  the  hostess  came  in.  Her  appearance  cor 
responded  with  that  of  her  house,  for  she  was  old  and  untidy ; 
but,  at  their  request,  she  produced  from  a  closet  in  one 
corner  some  very  tolerable  brandy,  and  promised  to  cook 
supper  for  them.  Having  replenished  the  fire,  she  left  the 
room  to  attend  to  culinary  affairs,  and  Gen.  Lee  soon 
followed  her  to  the  kitchen,  whence  the  fumes  of  fried  pork 
came  with  appetizing  odor.  She  had  not  heard  him  addressed, 
and  his  rough  face,  ill-looking  garments,  and  blunt  manner, 
did  little  towards  revealing  his  rank.  Therefore,  when  he 
had  ensconced  himself  in  the  chimney-corner,  saying  there 
were  so  many  around  the  other  fire  he  could  not  get  warm, 
she  entered  with  perfect  unreserve  into  the  familiar  conversa 
tion  that  followed,  and,  in  answer  to  his  questions, -told  him 
the  history  of  herself  and  family. 

She  had  two  sons,  but  they  were  gone  to  the  war ;  her  three 
daughters  had  married  and  left  the  neighborhood,  and  thus 
she  remained  alone  in  her  vigorous  old  age  to  sustain  the 
honors  of  the  establishment. 

" But  where  is  your  husband?"  asked  Gen.  Lee,  when  she 
reached  this  point  in  her  narrative. 

"  Well,  he 's  bad  as  any  on  'em  —  gone  the  hull  time,  and 
me  a  lone  woman  here.  I  'd  about  as  good  not  have  a  bus- 


THE     UNRULY     MEMBER.  79 

band.  But,  there!  he  was  to  South  Car'lina  with  Gin'ral 
Lee,  and  sence  then  he 's  wus  'n  he  ever  was.  He  kalkerlates 
that  are  Gin'ral  Lee  's  about  the  biggest  man  in  this  Varsal 
world  —  'ud  go  through  fire  and  water  for  him.  I  tell  him 
he  's  a  fool.  I  would  n't  risk  my  neck  for  nobody  —  I 
would  n't.  Here,  mister,  just  take  this  ere  fork,  and  turn 
them  are  slices  o'  meat,  so  they  won't  burn,  while  my  hands 
is  in  the  dough." 

Gen.  Lee  took  the  proffered  trident,  and  humbly  turned  the 
slices,  and  sat  watching  them  while  his  hostess  mixed  some 
biscuit. 

"Does  Gen.  Lee  think  as  much  of  him,  in  return?" 
asked  he. 

"  Lord  knows !  —  likely  not,  I  reckon  !  "  she  replied ;  "  but 
afore  Tie  went  away  last  time  he  was  a  braggin'  about  somethin' 
he  wajj'goin'  ter  deu,  'twould  put  things  straight.  He  thinks 
Gin'ral  Washington  an't  the  man  folks  tell  for.  Thinks  he 
ought  to  be  turned  out,  and  Gin'ral  Lee  put  in." 

"  Put  into  what?  "  asked  her  auditor. 

"  Into  the  head  o'  the  army,"  said  she.  "  That 's  what 
my  old  man  's  alwus  sayin'.  Deu  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Know  who  ?  " 

"  Gin'ral  Lee.     Ever  see  him  ?  " 

"  Yes !  I  see  him  sometimes ! "  he  answered,  in  a  hesi 
tating  tone. 

"  Well,  now,  deu  tell !  Deu  you  think  he 's  sich  an  orful 
great  man  ?  " 


80  AGNES. 

"  He 's  just  about  five  feet,  six,  and  large  in  proportion !  " 
replied  her  hearer,  with  a  quizzical  glance. 

She  stared  at  him  a  moment,  uncertain  how  to  understand 
the  answer,  but  her  thoughts  were  soon  diverted. 

"  There,  now,"  she  exclaimed,  "  don't  you  smell  that  are  fat 
burnin'  ?  Take  it  off !  —  it  '11  blaze  !  —  quick !  Thank  you, 
mister.  Now,  I  wonder  if  you  'd  mind  goin'.  out  to  the  well 
and  drawin'  me  a  pail  o'  water.  Then,  I  '11  bile  the  kittle 
while  the  bread 's  a  bakin',  and  you  can  have  your  supper  — 
you  men-folks." 

Secretly  amused,  and  caring  little  for  this  infringement  of 
military  dignity,  Gen.  Lee  took  the  pail,  but,  before  he  went 
out,  asked,  with  apparent  carelessness, 

"  Has  your  husband  been  about  home  within  the  last 
month  ?  " 

"  No,  not  for  two  months.  He  went  "away  to  York  ped 
dling." 

"  And  you  have  heard  nothing  from  him  since?  Where  do 
you  suppose  he  is  ?  " 

"  Lord  knows !  He  '11  turn  up  soon  enough,  I  reckon. 
I  'm  waitin'  for  that  are  pail  o'  water,  stranger." 

Taking  this  hint,  he  proceeded  to  the  well,  and,  having 
filled  the  pail,  returned,  opening  the  outside  door  into  the 
kitchen  just  as  Percy  Grey  opened  the  inner  one,  and  stood 
petrified  with  astonishment  at  the  strange  figure  the  general 
made  as  he  bent  over  his  burden. 

But,  nowise  disconcerted,  Gen.  Lee  set  down  the  pail  at 


THE     UNRULY    MEMBER.  81 

the  woman's  feet,  and,  wiping  his  brow,  said,  coolly,  with  a 
mischievous  twinkle  in  his  eyes, 

"  So,  Major  Grey,  you  've  returned !  " 

"  Yes,  your  excellency.  I  heard  the  army  was  in  this 
vicinity,  but  did  not  expect  to  see  you  here.  I  have  been 
riding  all  day,  and  seeing,  by  the  sign-post,  this  was  a  tavern, 
thought  I  would  stop  to  supper." 

"  Have  you  been  in  the  other  room  ?  " 

"No,  sir.  I  have  this  moment  arrived,  and  the  smell  of 
the  food  attracted  me  this  way.  I  have  something  of  import 
ance  from  head-quarters  for  you,  Gen.  Lee !  " 

"  I  've  nearly  finished  cooking  supper,  and  will  attend  to  it 
immediately,"  replied  he,  giving  way  to  the  laughter  pro 
voked  by  Percy's  bewildered  face,  and  the  consternation 
visible  in  that  of  his  hostess.  She  had  listened  in  blank*  sur 
prise  to  the  brief  conversation,  and  now,  comprehending  her 
visitor's  rank,  fell  on  her  knees  before  him,  exclaiming, 

"  Lord  knows,  I  had  n't  the  leastest  idee  't  was  you,  Gin'ral ! 
An'  I  made  you  cook  the  meat  and  bring  the  water !  If  he 
know'd  it,  he  'd  break  every  bone  in  my  body !  " 

"  He  shan't  know  it,  then,  so  you  need  fear  no  such  catas 
trophe,"  said  Gen.  Lee,  restraining  his  mirth;  and  then, 
turning  to  Percy,  he  added,  "  You  see,  young  man,  the  neces 
sity  of  being  careful  to  wear  a  fine  coat.  The  most  distin 
guished  talents  have  no  chance  of  being  recognized  beneath  a 
shabby  dress." 

He  led  the  way  to  the  apartment  where  his  men  were 
waiting  quite  impatiently  for  their  promised  refreshment,  and 


82  A  G  N  E  S  . 

Percy  joined  the  circle  at  the  fire,  having  first  delivered 
the  despatch  of  which  he  was  bearer.  When  Gen.  Lee 
read  it,  his  mirthful  mood  instantly  vanished,  and,  though  he 
made  no  comment,  he  walked  the  floor  with  a  hurried  step 
and  excited  manner,  until  called  to  sit  down  to  the  table. 
Even  then  he  was  taciturn  and  gloomy,  frequently  laying 
down  his  knife,  as  if  he  had  forgotten  to  eat,  and  exhibiting 
other  signs  of  secret  vexation  and  disquiet,  which  fixed 
Percy's  attention,  and  filled  with  terror  the  simple-minded 
woman,  who  thought  she  had  offended  him. 

After  their  meal  was  finished,  he  ordered  a  fire  built  in  a 
chamber,  and  declared  his  intention  of  passing  the  night 
there.  When  the  hostess  pronounced  his  apartment  comfort 
able,  he  commanded  the  guard  to  be  ready  for  an  early  ride 
nexfr  morning,  as  they  must  reach  the  camp  before  daybreak, 
and  desired  Percy  to  accompany  him  up  stairs. 

As  soon  as  they  were  alone  together,  he  said,  in  an  angry 
tone, 

"  So,  it  seems,  the  soldiers  are  naked  and  half-starved,  with 
a  victorious  army  ready  to  attack  them ;  and  yet  it  is  to  be 
laid  to  my  charge  if  they  are  destroyed  !  " 

"  Does  Gen.  Washington  say  so  ?  "  asked  Percy,  gravely. 

"  He  implies  as  much.  He  speaks  of  my  '  unaccountable 
delay,  as  if  I  could  esteem  myself  tied  up  to  the  letter  ol 
instructions,  without  any  discretionary  power !  An  old  sol 
dier  like  me  !  If  they  had  listened  to  my  advice  in  the 
matter  of  evacuating  those  forts,  they  would  not  have  been 
thus  destitute  and  perishing.  The  world  will  know  some  day 


THE     UNRULY    MEMBER.  83 

the  respective  merits  of  the  servants  of  America.  The  tem 
porary  power  of  office,  and  the  tinsel  dignity  attending  it, 
will  not  be  always  able  to  offuscate  the  bright  rays  of  truth. 
Gen.  Washington  has  no  right  to  distrust  me,  or  poison  the 
minds  of  people  against  me.  I  think  I  may  at  least  ven 
ture  to  hope  that  you,  Major  Grey,  said  nothing  to  induce 
the  -strangely  cold  letter  he  has  seen  fit  to  write  in  reply  to 
the  friendly  missive,  wherein  I  thought  I  had  explained  every 
thing  to  his  satisfaction  ?  " 

"  I  am  hurt  that  you  should  ask  the  question,"  said 
Percy,  warmly.  "  Gen.  Washington  seemed  intensely  disap 
pointed,  and  more  excited  than  I  ever  saw  him  before,  and  I 
assure  you  I  regretted  it  was  not  in  my  power  to  explain 
more  satisfactorily  the  cause  of  your  delay.  Fortunately, 
our  conversation,  the  morning  I  left  you,  supplied  me  with 
some  information  on  the  subject ;  and  I  told  him  you  ex 
pected  to  be  able  to  divert  the  enemy  from  him,  and,  more 
over,  that  you  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  leave  the  province 
of  New  York  undefended." 

"  What  did  he  say  to  that  ?  "  asked  Gen.  Lee. 

"  He  thought  it  an  ill-timed  prudence  —  " 

"  By  heaven  ! "  interrupted  his  hearer,  "  I  know  of  no  man 
who  has  more  of  that  rascally  virtue  than  his  excellency,  and 
he  might  therefore  be  able  to  excuse  it  in  another.  I  could 
not  fully  explain  my  motive,  or  my  plan ;  but  I  thought  the 
one  was  above  suspicion,  and  I  knew  the  other  would  vindicate 
Uself.  It  is  shameful — it  is  abominable ! "  he  added,  with  an 
oath ;  "  and  the  country,  for  which  I  have  given  up  so  much, 


84  AGNES. 

owes  me  something  better  than  this.  I  have  always  honored 
Gen.  Washington,  but,  if  he  chooses  to  claim  the  homage  due 
to  an  infallible  divinity,  I  shall  surely  prove  a  heretic  ;  and, 
if  he  wounds  everything  I  hold  dear,  he  must  thank  himself 
if  his  deityship  gets  scratched  in  the  scuffle !  " 

"  I  think  you  magnify  the  difficulty,"  said  Percy.  "  The 
army  is  very  feeble,  and,  of  course,  your  assistance  is  in 
tensely  desired ;  and  that  should  account  for  any  slight 
impatience  on  the  part  of  those  who  are  expecting  you. 
But  I  am  certain  they  cannot  doubt  or  suspect  you,  as  your 
words  seem  to  indicate.  If  there  is  any  mystery,  you  will 
be  able  to  satisfy  every  one  it  was  unavoidable." 

Gen.  Lee's  fiery  nature  was  easily  roused,  but  his  anger 
was  seldom  lasting,  and  his  voice  took  a  milder  tone,  as  he 
answered, 

"  I  can  do  so ; — nay,  I  will  now  partly  explain  to  you  what 
has  seemed  so  strange.  When  I  came  up  from  the  south  I 
chanced  to  stop  one  night  at  a  house,  not  far  from  here,  where 
I  met  a  man  by  the  name  of  White,  the  owner  of  this  place, 
in  fact,  who  had  been  in  the  southern  army,  and,  with  how 
much  justice  I  will  not  pretend  to  say,  had  formed  a  most 
exalted  idea  of  its  commander.  He  was  willing  to  undertake 
the  risk  of  bearing  a  letter  from  me  to  a  gentleman,  then  in 
New  York,  whom  I  knew  long  ago  in  England,  and  with 
whom  I  have  had  some  communication  since  I  arrived  in  this 
country.  I  had,  even  then,  a  plan  half  formed,  which  only 
required  certain  information  I  was  sure  he  could  obtain,  in 
order  to  enable  me  triumphantly  to  forward  our  cause.  I 


THE      UNRULY     MEMBEK.  85 

sent  this  White  to  York,  fitted  out  as  a  pedler,  and  he  was  to 
join  me  at  White  Plains,  or,  if  that  was  impossible,  I  could 
find  him  here  at  this  time.  Therefore  I  lingered  in  my 
encampment,  and  have  delayed  the  march  that  he  might  be 
able  to  overtake  us,  if  he  reached  there  after  we  left.  But 
he  did  not  come ;  he  has  not  been  here ;  and  now  I  am 
doubly  disappointed,  because  the  course  of  events  during  the 
last  two  months  has  made  the  brilliant  stroke  I  contemplated 
more  than  ever  necessary  to  the  success  of  the  war.  But  I 
was  born  under  an  unlucky  star,  and  nothing  I  touch  pros 
pers  !  Sometimes  I  think  the  best  thing  I  could  do  for  this 
country  would  be  to  put  a  few  bits  of  lead  through  my 
brains." 

Percy  endeavored  to  cheer  the  despondency  which  had 
thus  followed  extreme  vexation,  and  was  so  far  successful 
that,  when  at  a  late  hour  he  left  him  for  the  repose  his  toil 
some  journey  had  rendered  necessary,  Gen.  Lee  spoke  hope 
fully  of  making  a  forced  march,  during  the  next  twenty-four 
hours,  to  the  spot  where  boats  had  been  stationed  to  convey 
his  army  across  the  Delaware. 

Calling  the  hostess,  who  approached  with  a  frightened 
manner,  as  if  expecting  to  be  "  court-martialed  "  on  the  spot, 
Percy  asked  for  a  light,  and  followed  her  to  a  closet  under 
the  eaves  of  the  low  roof,  where  a  bed  had  been  made  on  the 
floor  for  his  accommodation.  He  threw  himself  upon  it  with 
out  undressing,  and  in  a  moment  was  fast  asleep. 

Several  hours  had  passed,  when  his  dreamless  rest  waa 
disturbed  by  the  sudden  noise  of  shouts  and  the  clash  of  arms 
8 


86  AGNES. 

outside  the  house.  He  sprang  up,  and,  groping  across  the 
entry  to  a  window,  saw  that  the  first  gleams  of  early  sunshine 
were  struggling  through  the  sky,  but  from  his  position  he 
could  not  ascertain  whence  the  noise  proceeded.  Feeling 
his  way  as  rapidly  as  possible  along  the  obscure  passage, 
he  entered  Gen.  Lee's  room,  the  door  of  which  was  partly 
open.  Its  inmate  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  half 
dressed,  with  his  cloak  wrapped  about  him.  He  had  evi 
dently  just  risen  from  his  bed,  and  was  now  listening  intently 
for  a  repetition  of  the  sounds  that  had  aroused  him. 

"  What  is  this,  General  ? "  said  Percy.  "  Are  we  be 
trayed?" 

"  I  don't  know —  the  noise  is  receding.  The  windows  are 
so  frosty  I  can  see  nothing.  Where  is  the  guard  ?  "  he  asked, 
hurriedly,  yet  with  entire  self-possession. 

Percy  raised  the  curtain  from  the  upper  part  of  the  win 
dow,  and  found  a  small  place  clear  from  the  thick  coating 
which  covered  the  other  panes.  He  enlarged  the  opening 
with  his  breath,  and  saw  the  guard  scampering  ingloriously 
in  various  directions,  chased  by  a  party  of  British  dragoons. 

"  It  is  the  enemy !  We  are  betrayed !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  General,  you  must  escape,  if  possible,  for  it  is  useless  to 
think  of  resistance ;  the  guard  have  fled  !  " 

"  Curse  the  cowards !  "  muttered  Gen.  Lee.  "  If  that  is 
the  case,  probably  escape  is  not  possible.  We  have  no  choice 
but  to  stay  here,  and  be  caught  like  rats  in  a  hole." 

At  this  moment  there  was  the  sound  of  fighting  in  the 
entry  below  stairs.  Pistols  were  fired  and  sabres  clashed,  and 


THE      UNRULY     MEMBER.  87 

one  or  two  officers  who  had  been  left,  with  those  of  the  guard 
who  disdained  to  fly,  were  slowly  pressed  by  overwhelm  ing  num 
bers  up  the  stairs.  There  they  had  stationed  themselves,  in  the 
faint  hope  that  while  they  fought  their  general  might  escape 
from  the  house  by  some  other  way.  This  idea  occurred  to 
Percy,  but  before  he  could  utter  it  Gen.  Lee  had  rendered  it 
of  no  avail,  by  springing  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  cheer 
ing  on  his  defenders  as  he  rushed  into  the  affray.  At  sight 
of  him,  his  pursuers  charged  with  new  zeal,  and,  in  another 
moment,  he  was  brought  back  to  the  chamber  a  prisoner,  with 
all  his  companions. 

Col.  Harcourt,  who  commanded  the  dragoens,  was  a  fine- 
looking,  noble-hearted  soldier,  and  he  restrained  the  taunts 
and  vauntings  in  which  some  of  the  captors  were  disposed  to 
indulge;  but,  fearful  that  those  who  had  fled  might  bring  their 
army  to  the  rescue,  he  hastily  gathered  up  the  papers  lying 
on  the  table,  and  ordered  an  instant  departure,  scarcely 
allowing  Gen.  Lee  time  to  put  on  his  clothes.  And  thus,  in 
most  unmilitary  style,  the  hero  of  Villa  Velha  and  Niester, 
the  gallant  supporter  of  American  liberty,  was  borne  away  to 
the  camp  of  his  countrymen. 

As  they  were  leaving  the  door,  horses  having  been  found 
for  the  few  prisoners,  the  slatternly  old  woman  again  appeared. 
Rushing  from  behind  a  door,  where  she  had  hidden  during 
the  contest,  she  threw  herself  on  the  snow,  and  caught  hold  of 
the  general's  foot  as  it  rested  in  the  stirrup. 

"  0,  't  wan't  me !  —  't  wan't !  —  Lord  knows   't  wan't !  " 


88  AGNES. 

she  cried.  "  I  never  thought  he  'd  tell !  —  an'  I  was  so 
skeered  to  find  how  I  'd  been  a  talkin'  to  you  !  " 

"  Who  was  it,  then?"  interrupted  Gen.  Lee,  sternly  look 
ing  down  upon  her. 

"  Why,  Tom !  He  came  in  jest  arter  you  went  in  t'  other 
room,  an'  I's  so  skeered  I  tell'd  him  all  about  it,  an'  he 
must  a  gone  an'  tell'd,  for  he  went  right  out.  0,  Gin'ral, 
Lord  knows  I  did  n't  mean  no  harm  !  What  '11  he  say,  when 
he  comes  home !  " 

This  last  exclamation,  extorted  more  by  fear  for  herselt 
than  for  the  victim  of  her  indiscretion,  was  cut  short  by  the 
necessity  of  springing  aside  to  avoid  the  trampling  feet  of  the 
horsemen,  who  now  set  off  in  full  gallop. 

Gen.  Lee  wrapped  himself  closer  in  the  cloak  which  had 
been  thrown  over  him,  and,  dropping  his  head  upon  his 
breast,  he  groaned  bitterly  from  behind  his  clenched  teeth, 

"  Fool !  fool !  Why  must  my  careless  tongue  always  be 
my  ruin?" 


CHAPTEK    V. 

LOVE    VERSUS   WEALTH. 

THE  short  twilight  was  fading,  —  the  twilight  of  a  freezing 
day  in  December  of  76,  —  and  the  streets  of  New  York  were 
filled  with  the  multitudes  who  at  that  hour  were  seeking  their 
homes  for  the  evening  meal.  The  possession  of  the  city  by 
the  British  troops  had  caused  it  to  be  a  general  rendezvous 
for  those  whose  principles  or  whose  interest  induced  them  to 
continue  their  allegiance  to  the  king,  instead  of  joining  their 
countrymen  in  the  struggle  for  liberty  then  in  progress,  as 
well  as  for  those  who  desired  to  shelter  themselves  and  their 
families  from  the  ravages  of  war  in  the  open  country. 

Evelyn  Chester  stood  near  the  window  of  her  pleasant  par- 
lor,  looking  out  on  what  was  then  <the  fashionable  part  of 
Broadway,  and  beside  her  stood  Col.  Stanley,  in  the  rich  dress 
of  a  British  officer.  They  had  been  for  some  time  conversing, 
and  he  had  now  risen  to  take  his  departure ;  but  the  conver- 
sation  had  evidently  been  of  an  unpleasant  nature,  for  her 
cheek  was  crimson  with  the  deep  flush  of  embarrassment,  and, 
though  her  eyes  were  downcast,  her  manner  was  reserved  and 
8* 


90  AGNES . 

haughty.  The  face  of  her  companion  expressed  anger  and 
mortification. 

"  I  shall  not  consider  this  decision  final,  Miss  Evelyn,"  he 
said,  as  she  stood  evidently  waiting  for  him  to  leave.  "  To 
say  nothing  of  my  own  feelings,  to  which  you  do  suA  cruel 
injustice,  I  must  still  hope  that  the  wishes  of  Lord  Evans- 
dale,  and  the  elevated  rank  which  will  be  yours  if  you  accede 
to  them,  will  induce  you  to  reconsider  the  subject." 

"It  is  in  vain,  Mr.  Stanley,"  replied  the  lady,  "and  I  do 
not  wish  this  matter  again  urged.  Lord  Evansdale  has 
never  cared  to  acknowledge  me  until  now,  and  I  cannot  have 
much  affection  for  a  grandfather  whom  I  have  never  seen, 
and  who  was  so  harsh  and  stern  to  my  poor  mother.  In  a 
matter  like  this,  which  affects  the  happiness  of  my  whole  life, 
I  shall  not  be  guided  by  him." 

Col.  Stanley  bit  his  lips,  and  an  angry  glance  shot  from  his 
eyes  as  he  heard  these  words.  Evelyn  saw  it,  and,  in  a  more 
gentle  tone,  she  added, 

"  Forgive  me  for  speaking  so  plainly,  but  I  wished  to  spare 
you  the  pain  of  further  conversation  on  this  point.  My 
decision  is  irrevocable."" 

She  curtseyed  as  if  to  bid  him  farewell.  He  saw  that  he 
could  not  with  propriety  remain  longer,  but,  being  determined 
his  suit  should  not  end  thus,  he  concealed  his  chagrin  as  much 
as  possible,  and  said,  gayly,  with  a  total  change  of  man 
ner, 

"  Permit  me,  then,  to  say  adieu,  and  let  me,  as  your  grand 
father's  protege,  be  to  you  the  friend  I  might  have  been  if 


LOV.E     VJSKS0S     WEALTH.  91 

these  unfortunate  hopes  had  not  made  me  too  bold.  Thus  I 
kiss  this  fair  hand  in  token  of  peace." 

As  he  spoke,  he  seized  her  hand,  and,  before  she  could 
prevent  him,  touched  it  to  his  lips ;  and  with  a  low,  courtly 
bow,  he  left  her. 

When  he  had  gone  she  sank  into  a  chair  by  the  window, 
vexed  and  yet  half  amused  at  the  coolness  and  pertinacity 
of  her  suitor.  As  she  sat  musing  there,  watching  the  passing 
throng,  her  thoughts  turned  away  from  the  present,  and  tha 
lover  she  could  not  accept,  to  a  sunset  in  summer,  when 
beneath  the  green  trees  surrounding  her  father's  country- 
house  she  had  listened  to  such  words  from  another,  —  words 
the  very  memory  of  which  thrilled  her  heart,  and  brought  a 
glad  light  into  the  darkness  of  her  lustrous  eyes.  Where  was 
he  now  —  that  lover,  in  comparison  with  whose  warm,  gen 
erous  impulses,  and  lofty  principles,  the  selfish  views  and 
cold,  cynical  wisdom  of  the  man  who  had  just  left  her  seemed 
doubly  repulsive  ? 

Alas !  since  that  interview  beneath  his  father's  roof,  she 
had  neither  seen  or  heard  from  him,  nor  could  she  soon 
expect  to  do  so  ;  and,  bravely  as  she  had  then  spoken  of  their 
prolonged  separation,  her  spirit  sank  within  her  as  she  now 
thought  of  it,  and  imagined  him  with  those  who  at  th.-e 
inclement  season  were  retiring,  broken  and  harassed  by 
repeated  disasters,  before  the  army  the  mother-country  had 
sent  over  to  subdue  their  dauntless  spirits.  She  was  impa 
tient  of  her  own  position  of  ease  and  luxury,  while  he  was 
Buffering  fatigue,  and  cold,  and  hunger.  The  gayeties  in 


92  AGNES. 

which  she  was  forced  to  mingle  seemed  hollow  mockeries  of 
the  anxiety  and  trouble  he  endured ;  and  to  that  true  heart 
it  appeared  an  outrage  to  his  love  for  her  to  be  considered, 
as  she  knew  she  was,  the  affianced  bride  of  Col.  Stanley. 

Since  their  arrival  in  New  York,  he  had  been  so  assiduous 
in  his  attentions  as  to  keep  all  others  aloof;  and,  as  her  father 
wished  her  to  mingle  in  society,  where  her  beauty  and  re 
puted  wealth  made  her  soon  the  "  bright  particular  star  "  of 
the  season,  she  could  not  well  avoid  the  inference  her  ac 
quaintances  drew  from  his  assiduities.  This  impression  he 
had  taken  good  care  to  verify  on  all  suitable  occasions,  but 
never  until  now  had  he  given  her  an  opportunity  formally  to 
reject  him.  He  did  not  dream  of  any  prior  affection,  for  he 
thought  her  life  had  been  too  secluded  to  admit  such  a  possi 
bility,  but  still  was  unwilling  to  risk  a  refusal,  being  uncertain 
how  far  her  father  would  in  that  case  extend  his  authority, 
and  without  it  he  had  little  hope  of  ultimate  success. 

In  those  times  which  "  tried  men's  souls,"  there  was  enough 
of  the  strange  and  exciting  in  every-day  life  to  interest  the 
mind  ;  and  men,  in  this  country  at  least,  had  not  commenced 
the  study  of  those  puzzling  questions  which  weary  the  brains 
of  people  in  this  later  age.  The  only  "  magnetism  "  they 
knew  was  believed  by  the  truly  orthodox  to  be  veritable 
witchcraft.  The  odylic  fluid  was  not  so  much  as  dreamed  of; 
and  one  who  had  talked  to  them  of  "  attraction  or  repulsion 
of  spheres  "  would  have  been  looked  upon  as  crazy,  if  not 
worse.  But  human  nature  was  the  same  then  as  now,  and 
men  and  women  experienced  the  same  likings  and  dislikings 


LOVE     VERSUS    WEALTH.  93 

for  each  other  which  have  since  received  such  scientific  ex 
planations  ;  and  had  Evelyn  Chester  been  "  fancy  free  "  when 
she  met  Col.  Stanley,  she  would  have  felt  a  repugnance  for 
him  not  to  be  overcome  by  his  fine  person,  his  pleasing 
address,  or  the  varied  stores  of  information  he  had  gathered 
from  travelling  in  foreign  countries.  His  courtly  manner 
seemed  to  her  too  cold,  too  polished ;  his  wit  too  sarcastic  and 
cruel,  and  launched  too  often,  in  unguarded  moments,  at 
those  principles  most  dear  and  sacred  to  her ;  and,  beneath 
all  his  endeavors  to  please,  she  recognized,  instinctively,  the 
entire  selfishness  of  his  nature. 

Rising,  at  length,  from  her  troubled  revery,  she  crossed  the 
room,  and,  opening  a  door  communicating  with  her  father's 
library,  went  in  and  stood  behind  his  chair.  Twilight  had  deep 
ened  into  darkness,  but  the  firelight  revealed  every  nook  of  the 
cosey  little  place ;  —  the  tall  case  of  books,  the  sweeping  folds 
of  the  thick  curtains  before  the  windows,  a  picture  or  two  on 
the  walls,  a  few  chairs  around  the  table  which  occupied  the 
centre  of  the  room,  covered  with  books  and  holding  a  portable 
desk  heavily  bound  with  brass,  and  Mr.  Chester  sitting 
thoughtfully  in  his  high-backed  leathern  chair,  his  person 
enveloped  in  an  ample  robe  of  dark-green  velvet  lined  with 
purple  silk.  So  silently  had  she  entered  that  her  step  had 
been  unheard  but  her  father  knew  the  touch  of  her  light 
fingers  as  they  toyed  with  his  hair,  and,  taking  her  hand, 
would  have  drawn  her  to  her  accustomed  seat  on  his  knee, 
but  she  resisted. 


94  AGNES. 

"  Let  me  stay  here,  father,"  she  said.  "  I  have  something 
to  tell  you." 

"  Ah,  what  is  it  ?  "  he  asked,  his  smile  betraying  a  little 
anxiety. 

"  Col.  Stanley  was  here  this  afternoon." 

"  Is  that  so  unusual  ?  "  he  said,  as  Evelyn  paused. 

"  But  he  spoke  of  his  wishes,  of  his  hopes,"  she  added,  in 
an  embarrassed  whisper. 

"  And  you  —  Evelyn,  what  did  you  say  to  his  addresses  ?  " 

She  changed  her  position  suddenly,  and,  half  kneeling  at 
his  feet,  threw  her  arms  around  him,  and  looked  eagerly  in 
his  face. 

"  Father,"  she  exclaimed,  "  to  marry  that  man  would  be  to 
perjure  myself  in  the  sight  of  heaven !  Will  you  compel  me 
to  do  so?" 

"  God  forbid !  "   he  ejaculated,  fervently. 

Overcome  by  this  unexpected  relief,  Evelyn  burst  into 
tears,  and,  lifting  her  from  the  floor,  he  pillowed  her  head 
upon  his  breast,  and  soothed  her  fondly.  Between  these  two 
there  had  ever  existed  the  most  tender  and  confiding  affection, 
and  the  most  unreserved  interchange  of  thought.  Never  had 
his  daughter  dreamed  of  disobeying  his  wishes,  and  the 
thought  of  opposing  them  in  this  instance  had  pained  her 
deeply. 

"  Did  you  so  very  much  wish  it  ?  "  she  asked,  at  length. 

"  There  were  reasons  why  it  seemed  best  to  me  to  favor  his 
suit,"  replied  her  father,  "and,  perhaps,  as  the  crisis  has 
come,  I  had  better  speak  of  them  more  fully  than  I  have 


LOVE     VERSUS     WEALTH.  95 

done.  But  first  let  ine  thank  you,  my  child,  for  your  submis 
sion  to  my  will,  even  when  I  must  have  seemed  cruel  in  what 
I  required.  I  intended  nothing  which  would  eventually 
trouble  you,  but  in  order  to  effect  my  purposes  I  was  obliged 
to  seem  harsh  and  unfeeling." 

"  0,  no,  father,"  she  hastened  to  say,  "  I  never  thought  so. 
I  did  not  wonder  much  that  you  opposed  me.  With  your 
views  about  the  war,  that  was  but  natural.  I  never  thought 
you  unkind  but  once,  and  that  was  — "  She  hesitated,  and  he 
added,  with  a  slight  smile, 

"  That  was  when  I  offered  Percy  Grey  a  commission  in  the 
British  army.  He  took  it  as  an  insult." 

"  It  was.     How  could  you  do  it,  father?  " 

"  I  wanted  to  try  the  young  man's  mettle.  I  have  had  so 
little  opportunity  to  know  his  real  character,  that  I  considered 
it  excusable." 

Something  in  Mr.  Chester's  tone  made  his  daughter's  heart 
throb  with  surprise  and  sudden  hope,  and  a  new  light  broke 
upon  the  conduct  which  had  so  long  puzzled  her.  He  noticed 
the  tremor  and  the  flash  of  mute  inquiry  in  her  eyes,  and 
added,  gravely, 

"Listen  to  me,  my  child,  and  do  not  decide  rashly. 
You  know  your  mother  fled  from  her  father's  house  to  join 
her  fate  with  mine,  and  that  she  was  never  allowed  to  return 
there.  My  family  was  as  ancient  and  honorable  as  hers,  but 
its  fortunes  had  decayed,  and  I  had  no  wealth  to  offer  the 
heiress  of  Evansdale.  For  this  stolen  match  she  was  never 
forgiven,  and,  though  she  had  only  consented  to  it  when  they 


96  A  G  N  E  S  . 

would  have  forced  her  into  the  arms  of  another,  her  father's 
curse  rang  in  her  ears  continually,  and  poisoned  every  after 
joy,  —  it  weighed  upon  her  spirits,  and  wore  out  her  life. 
They  said  she  died  of  consumption,  soon  after  you  were  born  ; 
perhaps  she  did,  but  she  was  sensitive  and  timid,  and  I  sol 
emnly  believe  it  was  that  awful  curse  which  killed  her." 

He  paused,  deeply  affected,  and  the  eyes  of  his  earnest 
listener  were  cast  down  and  filled  with  tears.  When  he 
spoke  again,  it  was  in  a  low,  sad  tone,  as  if  painful  memories 
were  busy  at  his  heart. 

"  After  that  there  was  a  weary  time.  Sick  at  heart,  and 
loathing  life,  I  wandered  hither  and  thither,  leaving  you  in 
the  care  of  the  nurse  who  had  followed  us  from  England. 
When  you  were  four -years  old  I  saw  you  for  the  first  time 
after  your  mother  died,  and  in  a  little  while  found  myself 
abundantly  repaid  for  assuming  the  duties  of  a  parent;  for 
your  childish  affection  soothed  my  profound  melancholy,  and, 
by  filling  my  heart  with  new  cares  and  joys,  brought  me  back 
to  the  world.  Since  then,  Evelyn,  I  have  lived  for  you. 
Together  we  sought  these  western  shores,  and  together  we 
have  lived  in  our  country  solitude,  until  the  war  compelled  us 
to  take  refuge  here. 

"  Lord  Evansdale  is  now  alone  in  the  world.  His  only 
son  died  unmarried,  and  the  old  man  has  no  heir.  He  has 
no  liking  for  me,  but  you  are  his  descendant,  and  he  would 
rather  the  estate  should  go  to  you  than  to  a  distant  branch  of 
the  family,  whom  he  has  never  known.  Perhaps,  also,  he 
repents  his  cruelty  to  your  mother.  He  has  written,  as  you 


LOVE    VERSUS     WEALTH.  97 

know,  to  iufbrm  me  that  he  will  make  you  his  heiress  if  you 
will  marry  Col.  Stanley,  who  was  once  his  ward.  Otherwise, 
the  unentailed  property  will  be  given  to  the  next  of  kin. 
Your  grandfather  is  a  stern  and  arbitrary  man,  and  it  is  much 
for  him  to  have  made  the  first  offer  towards  reconciliation, 
even  though  trammelled  with  this  condition.  If  you  refuse 
it,  he  will  not  probably  notice  you  again.  You  shall  be  free  to 
make  what  choice  you  will,  but  I  must  own  that  I  have  some 
ambition  to  see  you  occupy  the  place  you  would  grace  so-well. 
I  would  restore  the  child  to  the -rank  the  mother  sacrificed 
when  she  came  to  be  the  sunshine  of  my  life  in  a  lower 
sphere.  Here  is  the  letter ;  I  did  not  show  it  to  you  when 
it  came." 

As  he  spoke  he  opened  his  desk,  and  took  from  thence  a 
paper,  which  she  read,  sitting  on  the  footstool  at  his  feet. 
After  a  short  silence,  she  answered, 

"  Father,  this  inheritance  belongs  to  me  of  right,  as  my 
mother's  representative,  and  if  my  grandfather  had  any  kindly 
feeling  for  me  he  would  not  ofier  it  accompanied  by  such  odious 
conditions.  He  only  desires  an  heiress  to  his  estates  who  is  of 
his  own  blood.  And  shall  I  be  doomed  to  wed  a  man  I  can 
not  love,  in  order  to  gratify  this  pride,  which  brings  with  it 
no  gleam  of  affection?  There  is  something  in  the  tone  of  his 
letter  and  in  its  stipulations,  that  rouses  all  the  pride  of  my 
nature,  and  makes  it  seem  impossible  for  me  to  accept  them. 
I  feel  chilled  and  terrified  at  the  grand  life  he  offers  me,  —  a 
life  unblessed  by  love.  I  turn  from  the  thought,  and  a 
picture  of  our  past  life  rises  before  me.  0,  my  father,  let  us 
9 


98  A  ONES. 

give  up  the  vain  dreams  of  ambition,  and  remain  here,  where 
we  have  been  so  happy  !  " 

Her  father  made  no  immediate  reply,  and  his  thoughts 
seemed  troubled  as  his  eyes  rested  on  the  face  upturned  to  his, 
eloquent  with  emotion.  As  he  mused  a  servant  entered  with 
lights,  and,  clearing  the  table  of  its  burden,  placed  thereon  a  tray 
containing  a  tea-urn,  with  a  service  of  Dresden  china,  a  plate 
with  a  few  slices  of  toast,  and  another  with  delicate  cakes  man 
ufactured  by  Evelyn's  own  hands.  This  was  their  customary 
evening  meal  when  alone  together,  and  a  prettier  picture  of 
comfort  could  not  well  be  imagined.  Usually,  at  this  hour, 
Evelyn  amused  him  with  the  news  and  gossip  of  the  day,  or 
he  told  her  of  his  reading,  and  taught  her  the  facts  he  had 
thus  gained.  But  now  she  presided  at  the  table  in  a  thought 
ful  silence,  that  was  hardly  broken  until  the  cups  were  re 
moved,  and  she  had  resumed  her  position  at  his  feet.  Then 
he  said,  abruptly, 

"  My  daughter,  you  referred  to  my  opinions  respecting  the 
war.  You  have  mistaken,  those  opinions.  You  are  mistaken 
if  you  think  I  have  no  sympathy  with  the  colonies  in  this 
struggle  against  oppression.  You  look  surprised,"  he  added, 
as  he  met  her  wondering  gaze,  "  and  I  have  purposely  left 
you  to  suppose  me  a  Tory ;  for,  though  I  have  secretly  done 
much  to  aid  the  patriots,  though  my  wishes  and  hopes  are 
with  them,  my  ill-health  makes  a  quiet  life  necessary ;  and 
that,  together  with  my  fear  of  injuring  you  with  your  grand 
father  by  openly  espousing  their  cause,  has  hitherto  kept  me 
a  concealed  friend." 


LOVE    VERSUS    WEALTH.  99 

Evelyn  sprang  up  joyfully,  and  threw  her  arms  around  his 
neck. 

"  0,  is  it  so  ?  "  she  said.  "  Let  the  inheritance  go  !  Let 
us  avow  our  feelings !  Let  us  share  the  glorious  conflict ! 
Believe  me,  father,  each  man's  influence  is  much,  where  the 
odds  are  so  fearfully  against  the  right ;  and  I  cannot  consent 
that  our  principles  should  be  sacrificed  to  any  hope  of  worldly 
gain.  You  have  hesitated  for  my  sake,  but  now  you  can  no 
longer  doubt." 

"  You  know  all  now,"  he  answered,  "  except  that  my  prop 
erty  has  already  suffered  much  in  the  war,  and  if  it  continues 
we  shall  be  reduced  to  comparative  poverty.  I  have  longed 
to  place  you  in  a  position  where  these  annoyances  cannot 
reach  you.  Consider  well  before  deciding;  for  you  sacrifice 
great  worldly  advantages  in  refusing  this  union,  and  you  are 
ill-fitted  to  endure  want." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  0,  my  father,  you  little  know  what 
I  could  bear,  what  I  could  do,  if  my  soul  was  strengthened 
by  a  great  motive.  Often  have  I  longed  for  such  opportu 
nities  ;  often  have  I  asked  myself  if  this  indolent  life  was  all 
for  which  I  was  created ;  and  now  —  O,  you  can  hardly 
dream  how  happy  you  have  made  me  !  " 

He  smiled  sadly  at  her  enthusiasm. 

"  All  this  may  be,"  he  said,  "  and  yet  you  speak  lightly 
of  trials  before  which  the  strong  and  brave  have  fallen  to  rise 
no  more.  But  we  will  talk  no  longer  of  this.  If  Col.  Stan 
ley  persists  in  his  suit,  I  will  take  measures  to  free  you  from 
his  importunities.  Your  happiness  and  welfare  are  the  sole 


100  AGNES. 

objects  of  my  life,  and  no  force  shall  be  put  upon  your  incli 
nations.  That  you  might  not  be  mistaken  with  regard  to 
them,  I  have  subjected  you  to  this  trial;  and  its  result  leaves 
me  but  one  course  to  pursue.  Evelyn,  look  here  !  " 

He  took  a  letter  from  a  pocket  in  his  robe,  and  laid  it  in 
her  hand.  She  started,  with  a  vivid  flush,  a  quick  glance  of 
wondering  delight,  and  clasped  it  to  her  bosom. 

"  Where  did  you  get  it?  "  she  asked,  breathlessly. 

"  If  I  should  tell  you,  you  might  think  me  fit  for  '  treason, 
stratagems,  and  spoils.'  No,  Evelyn,  that  is  my  secret ;  but 
go  you  to  your  room  and  read  your  letter,  and  answer  it 
if  you  will,  for  the  messenger  who  brought  it  will  call  this 
evening  to  see  me,  and  I  can  trust  him  with  your  reply." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE    TRAP   BAITED. 

IT  would  be  doing  Col.  Stanley  injustice  to  suppose  he  did 
not  love  Evelyn  as  well  as  a  man  of  his  cold  and  selfish 
nature  could  love  another  than  himself;  and,  in  addition,  he 
felt  a  strong  desire  to  replenish  his  exhausted  purse,  and 
to  repurchase  the  estate  he  had  lost  at  the  gaming-table,  by 
means  of  the  broad  lands  of  Evansdale.  He  knew  their 
present  proprietor  would  never  alienate  them  from  his  own 
family,  and  it  was  only  through  this  marriage  he  could  hope 
to  enjoy  them. 

Therefore,  amid  all  the  scenes  of  misery  which  the  country 
presented  during  that  memorable  winter,  it  would  have  been 
difficult  to  find  a  more  disappointed  or  miserable  man  than  he 
who  passed  with  such  a  careless  smile  from  the  presence  of 
his  mistress,  on  this  eventful  evening.  He  spent  its  remaining 
hours  in  company  with  his  brother  officers,  vainly  endeavoring 
to  forget  his  chagrin  in  the  mirth  which  accompanies  cards 
and  wine.  But,  when  late  at  night  he  found  himself  again 
on  the  way  to  his  lodgings,  he  was  drawn  by  an  irresistible 
impulse  to  the  house  where  Evelyn  lived.  After  pacing  the 
9* 


102  AGNES. 

sidewalk  before  the  door  until  the  keen  night-wind  had  some 
what  cooled  the  fever  of  his  brain,  he  was  about  to  pursue  his 
way  homeward,  when  he  was  arrested  by  seeing  a  man's  head 
appear  cautiously  above  the  close  and  high  board-fence  sur 
rounding  the  garden  attached  to  Mr.  Chester's  dwelling.  The 
moon  was  shining  dimly,  but  there  was  light  enough  to  make 
visible  a  face  not  very  prepossessing  in  appearance,  and  a 
shock  of  red  hair,  surmounted  by  a  close  Scotch  cap. 

After  a  moment  given  to  reconnoitring,  the  owner  of  the 
face  seemed  to  consider  himself  safe  from  observation,  and, 
climbing  the  top  of  the  fence,  sprang  lightly  down,  ran  across 
the  street,  and  disappeared  at  the  next  corner.  Stanley  was 
hidden  from  view  by  the  shadow  of  the  house,  but  he  noticed 
the  stranger  wore  a  gray  cloth  dress,  usual  to  the  pedlers, 
who  at  that  time,  when  intercourse,  save  of  a  warlike  nature, 
was  almost  wholly  suspended  between  the  city  and  country, 
showed  their  Yankee  shrewdness  and  '  turned  an  honest 
penny'  by  carrying  their  wares  to  and  fro. 

Wondering  a  little  at  the  occurrence,  he  walked  slowly 
along,  and  had  nearly  reached  his  quarters  when  the  noise  of 
a  drunken  brawl  at  a  little  distance  attracted  his  attention. 
Angry  at  this  breach  of  discipline,  he  turned  quickly  down 
the  narrow  and  crooked  lane  from  whence  the  sound  pro 
ceeded,  and  in  a  few  minutes  came  in  sight  of  a  low  tavern, 
before  the  door  of  which  three  or  four  soldiers  were  fighting. 
As  he  drew  near  he  saw  in  their  midst,  vainly  endeavoring  to 
ward  off  the  blows  aimed  at  him  from  every  side,  a  man  whom 
he  instantly  recognized,  by  the  gray  clothes  and  the  red  cap,  to 


THE    TKAP    BAITED.  103 

be  the  pedler,  whose  mysterious  exit  from  Mr.  Chester's 
garden  had  so  puzzled  him.  At  the  sound  of  Col.  Stanley's 
voice  the  soldiers  fled,  but  not  before  one  of  them  had  with  a 
billet  of  wood  given  the  pedler  a  blow  on  the  head  that 
stretched  him  senseless  on  the  ground. 

Calling  for  aid  from  the  tavern,  Col.  Stanley  had  the  man 
carried  within  doors,  where  it  was  found  that  his  head  was 
much  injured  by  the  blow,  and  he  had  also  received  a  wound 
•  in  the  side,  which  was  bleeding  profusely.  Bidding  the  land 
lord  send  for  a  doctor,  and  leaving  money  to  provide  for  the 
wounded  man's  necessities,  he  left  him,  and  once  more  pur 
sued  his  way  homeward. 

The  next  morning,  as  he  was  passing  along  the  street  by  the 
tavern,  too  much  absorbed  in  his  own  plans  to  remember  at 
that  moment  the  events  of  the  preceding  evening,  he  was 
stopped  by  the  small,  square  figure  of  Billy  Flannigan,  the 
host,  who,  hat  in  hand,  had  placed  himself  directly  in  his  path, 
and,  with  an  obeisance  he  meant  to  be  very  respectful,  claimed 
his  attention. 

"  Och,  sure,  yer  honor,  and  is  n't  it  me  that 's  been  watchin' 
for  yees  ?  The  man  's  very  bad,  and  kind  o'  delarious  like ; 
an'  I  'm  thinkin'  he  's  dyin'  sure !  " 

"  Ah !  "  said  Stanley,  carelessly.  "  You  sent  for  a  doctor, 
did  n't  you?" 

"  Well,  yer  honor,"  replied  the  man,  scratching  his  head, 
"  it 's  one  thing  tp  sind  for  a  doctor,  and  it 's  another  thing  to 
git  'un ;  an'  the  likes  o'  us  poor  folks  oftener  gits  the  one 
nor  the  other." 


104  AGNES. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  the  doctor  would  n't  come  ?  " 

•'  Faix  !  an'  it 's  jist  that,  yer  honor  ! "  replied  Billy.  "  I 
goes  to  Dr.  Eobinson  —  him  as  lives  foment  the  hospital  — 
an'  I  knocks  an'  knocks.  Faix !  but  he 's  the  sound  slaper, 
says  I,  for  I  couldn't  wake  him  at  all,  by  reason  that  he 
was  n't  there  at  all,  at  all ;  an'  a  woman  puts  her  head  at 
last  out  the  windy  in  the  next  house,  and  tells  me  he  's  moved 
into  the  barracks.  An'  so  I  goes  roun'  an'  roun',  an'  if  yer 
honor  '11  b'lave  it,  it  was  mornin'  afore  I  gits  home,  and  then , 
the  man  was  dyin',  sure !  " 

"  You  don't  pretend  you  was  out  all  night  hunting  for  a 
doctor,  do  you  ?  "  asked  Stanley. 

"  Yis,  yer  honor,  it 's  that  I  'm  tellin'  ye.  Maybe  the 
dhrap  crathur  I  took  jist  to  warm  me  got  into  me  head  — 
I  don'  know  —  I  don't  jist  remember  about  the  whole  night 
rightly,  but  'twas  mornin'  afore  I  gits  home,  and  thin  sure 
the  man  was  dyin',  and  nobody  to  help  him." 

"  You  was  drunk,  you  rascal,  and  I  suppose  you  've  let  him 
bleed  to  death  !  "  said  Stanley,  indignantly. 

"  Faix  !  an'  that  was  what  th'  ould  woman  said  !  "  replied 
he ;  "  an'  she  jist  sint  me  out  for  yer  honor,  an'  if  ye  'd  only 
step  in  a  minute,  and  see  that  it 's  reg'lar  like,  an'  no  foul 
play  done  —  an'  maybe  yer  honor  would  give  a  nate  bit  of  a 
wake  for  him  !  " 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  tavern,  and  Stanley  fol 
lowed  his  conductor  to  the  bedside  of  thfc  sufferer.  His 
reason  had  returned  a  little,  but  the  death-rattle  in  his  throat, 


THE    TRAP    BAITED.  105 

and  the  livid  paleness  of  his  face,  showed  that  life  was  fast 
departing. 

"  Why  have  n't  you  taken  off  his  coat?  "  was  Stanley's  first 
question,  when  he  saw  the  man  lying  completely  dressed  as 
when  they  laid  him  on  the  bed. 

"  Faix  !  an'  did  n't  we  thry  to,  an'  did  n't  he  hould  on  so 
we  could  n't  ?  "  replied  Billy.  "  An'  I  'm  thinkin'  there 's 
gould  somewhere  about  that  coat,  by  the  grip  he  made  at  it 
when  we  thryed  to  take  it  off." 

"  Remove  it  now,"  said  Stanley ;  "  it  will  ease  his  breathing, 
and  he  won't  know  about  it.  Cut  it,  and  take  it  off!  " 

But  the  dying  man  heard  him,  and  when  they  attempted  to 
obey  the  command  made  a  feeble  resistance,  drawing  the 
coat  about  him,  as  if  to  keep  it  near  was  the  sole  anxiety  of 
those  last  moments  of  life.  Soon  his  fingers  wandered  along 
the  buttons  until  they  rested  on  a  particular  spot,  when  he 
smiled  vacantly,  and  lay  quite  still,  as  if  satisfied.  It  was  the 
last  effort  of  the  mind,  and  in  a  few  moments  he  had  ceased 
to  breathe. 

Stanley's  eyes  had  followed  this  last  motion,  and  his 
curiosity  was  excited  to  know  the  cause.  Placing  his  band 
on  the  same  spot,  he  felt  a  small,  hard  substance,  and  on 
ripping  open  the  place  with  his  knife  found  a  flat  tin  box,  a 
few  inches  long,  sewed  in  the  lining  beneath  the  button. 
Upon  being  opened,  this  proved  to  be  full  of  papers  com 
pactly  folded  together.  As  there  was  no  money  anywhere  to 
be  found,  Stanley  was  convinced  that  the  man's  solicitude  for 
these  papers  indicated  their  importance,  and,  leaving  means 


106  AGNES. 

to  have  the  body  decently  interred,  he  took  them  with  him  to 
his  lodgings. 

The  first  paper  he  opened  contained  only  some  lines  drawn 
in  red  and  black  ink,  which  seemed  totally  void  of  meaning. 
The  second  was  a  small  piece  a  few  inches  square,  on  which 
were  traced  some  characters  in  cipher.  He  did  not  stop  to 
study  them,  for  beneath  it  he  saw  a  letter,  the  address  of 
which,  written  in  a  feminine  hand,  arrested  his  attention.  He 
opened  it,  and  the  firm  yet  delicate  inscriptions  so  charac 
teristic  of  the  writer  hardly  needed  her  signature  to  convince 
him  that  he  knew  her. 

He  started  and  grew  pale,  while  the  letter  dropped  from  his 
hands.  He  did  not  soliloquize,  —  people  in  real  life  seldom 
do,  —  but  many  thoughts  went  rushing  through  his  brain. 
Dare  he  go  on  ?  Dare  he  invade  the  sanctuary  of  her 
familiar  correspondence?  Dare  he  possess  himself  of  the 
power  which  might  tempt  him  too  fatally  to  compel  her  to  his 
will  ?  And  again,  what  right  had  she  to  have  communication 
with  the  rebel  army?  He  appreciated  too  well  her  frank 
and  noble  nature,  to  believe  she  would  do  so  clandestinely ; 
and,  if  her  father  knew  it,  and  consented,  what  then  was  he  ? 
What  was  the  meaning  of  these  mysterious  papers,,  and  did 
Mr.  Chester  write  them  ?  To  whom  were  they  addressed,  and 
what  instructions  did  they  convey? 

O,  Evelyn !  when  with  love-lit  eyes,  and  fingers  tremulous 
with  the  heart's  quick  throbbings,  you  traced  your  name 
there,  how  little  did  you  think  to  what  a  fearful  mystery  it 


THE    TRAP    BAITED.  107 

would  prove  the  key,  beneath  the  gaze  of  those  bold  eyes,  and 
the  workings  of  that  busy  brain  ! 

His  indecision  did  not  last  long.  He  arose  and  locked  the 
door  to  secure  himself  from  interruption,  and  then,  picking 
up  the  letter,  seated  himself  to  read  it.  -As  he  read,  a  hard 
and  bitter  smile  curled  his  lips.  He  understood  all  now ! 
Percy  Grey  was  his  rival,  and  in  her  joy  Evelyn  had  spoken 
unreservedly  of  her  father's  consent  to  their  -union,  and  sym 
pathy  with  his  struggles  for  the  freedom  of  their  country. 
Since  the  day  they  had  met  so  accidentally,  Stanley  had  not 
given  a  thought  to  this  "  major  in  homespun."  Had  any  one 
suggested  that  he  was  in  any  way  connected  with  Mr.  Ches 
ter's  silence,  and  his  daughter's  agitation,  as  they  left  the 
house,  his  aristocratic  pride  would  have  pronounced  it  simply 
impossible  that  a  lady  whom  he  meant  to  honor  with  his 
name  could  stoop  so  low.  Now  his  eyes  flashed,  and  a  wild 
design  formed  itself  in  his  mind  to  crush  this  rival,  who  had 
presumed  to  interfere  with  his  purposes.  Again  and  again 
he  read  the  letter,  and  all  his  love  for  Evelyn,  all  his  pique 
at  her  rejection  of  that  love,  became  merged  in  a  fixed  deter 
mination  to  obtain  her  hand,  by  any  means,  at  any  price. 

The  sun  mounted  high  in  the  heavens,  and  the  tide  of  busy 
life  poured  through  the  streets  and  murmured  in  his  ears. 
He  heeded  not.  His  servant  brought  in  his  dinner,  but  he 
swallowed  it  almost  unconsciously,  and  returned  again  to  the 
study  that  absorbed  him.  He  was  finding  out  the  cipher. 
To  him  it  was  no  fruitless  task.  "  Any  puzzle  which  human 
ingenuity  has  constructed,  human  ingenuity  can  solve ; ''  and, 


108  AGNES. 

from  some  peculiar  bias  of  his  mind,  studies  of  this  kind  had 
been  a  favorite  amusement  of  his  boyhood.  Slowly,  but 
surely,  it  unfolded  before  him,  and  then  he  understood  that 
the  unmeaning  lines  which  first  had  met  his  eye  formed  a 
map  of  the  surrounding  country,  and  marked  the  course  of 
armies.  The  sun  was  sinking  in  the  west  when  he  had 
finished  his  labor.  His  face  was  haggard,  and  his  whole 
frame  weary  with  the  intensity  of  thought  and  passion.  But 
he  had  triumphed,  and  the  secret  was  his  own.  He  held  in 
his  power  Evelyn's  happiness  and  her  father's  life. 

At  the  same  hour,  the  maiden  on  whom  Stanley's  thoughts 
were  fixed  with  such  baneful  designs  was  sitting  with  her 
father  in  the  library.  With  quick  impulses  and  keen  sensi 
bilities,  Evelyn  Chester  was  yet  possessed  of  a  firm  mind  and 
a  strong  heart.  Her  cheek  might  flush  and  pale,  or  her  eye 
dim  and  brighten,  with  every  passing  emotion,  but  the  high 
soul  within  would  not  be  moved  from  its  right  purposes.  In 
obedience  to  the  command  she  considered  it  the  first  duty  of 
her  life  to  obey,  she  had  resolutely  striven  to  conquer  the 
love  which  had  gained  such  power  over  her,  and  with  generous 
self-sacrifice  had  hidden  from  her  father  the  pain  the  struggle 
cost  her.  But,  as  a  bird,  when  some  kind  hand  opens  the 
door  of  its  cage,  escapes,  carolling,  into  the  free  air,  its  wings 
glittering  in  the  sunshine,  so,  at  Mr.  Chester's  words  on  the 
preceding  evening,  had  that  long-silenced  affection  risen  exult- 
ingly  from  its  prison  in  her  heart,  and,  with  a  power  before 
undreamed  of,  claimed  the  homage  of  her  whole  being.  How 
gay  were  her  thick-coming  fancies,  how  bright  her  hopes,  as 


THE    TRAP    BAITED.  109 

phe  sat  by  the  window,  with  the  golden  western  light  falling 
over  her  like  a  glory !  She  held  a  book  in  one  hand,  while 
the  other  supported  her  queenly  head,  with  its  wealth  of  hair 
parted  simply  above  her  beautiful  brow,  and  rippling  back  to 
the  classic  braids  that  bound  it,  in  glossy  waves  of  purpjish 
black.  Her  eyes  were  half  hidden  by  their  long  lashes,  and 
a  faint  smile  curved  the  exquisite  outline  of  her  rosy  lips. 

A  noise  from  the  street  interrupted  the  quiet  of  her  thought, 
and,  looking  up,  she  met  her  father's  eyes  fixed  on  her  with 
fond  pride.  He  was  almost  as  glad  as  his  daughter  that  his 
self-imposed  barrier  to  her  happiness  was  removed. 

"  I  hear  a  noise,"  she  said,  "  music  and  shouting.  What 
is  it  ?  " 

"  I  heard,  to-day,"  replied  Mr.  Chester,  "  that  Gen.  Lee 
and  his  staff  were  surprised  and  taken  prisoners  in  a  country- 
house  somewhere  in  Jersey,  and,  probably,  they  have  just 
been  brought  into  town.  They  seem  to  be  coming  this  way." 

"  Where  can  they  be  placed  ?  "  said  Evelyn.  "  I  hear  the 
prisons  are  full,  and  most  of  them  so  crowded  that  the  pris 
oners  have  not  room  to  turn  over  on  the  floor  where  they  lie 
at  night." 

"  It  is  dreadful  to  think  how  they  must  suffer  !  "  answered 
Mr.  Chester,  with  a  sigh.  "  Many  of  them  die  of  fever,  and 
some  in  a  more  terrible  way  —  alone,  and  in  darkness,  by  the 
hangman's  hands.  But  I  will  not  pain  you  by  speaking  of 
this,"  he  added,  as  Evelyn  uttered  an  exclamation  of  horror. 

He  came  to  the  window,  and  they  watched  the  advancing 
crowd.  A  band  of  musicians  preceded  a  company  of  soldiers, 
10 


110  AGNES. 

who  marched  in  a  hollow  square,  surrounding  a  small  party 
of  prisoners.  Gen.  Lee  walked  a  little  in  advance  of  his 
officers,  his  face  buried  in  his  cloak,  as  if  to  hide  his  mor 
tification;  but  one,  who  followed  near,  seemed  to  have  lost 
all  consciousness  of  his  painful  position,  and  gazed  eagerly 
around,  as  if  seeking  some  one  in  the  street  as  they  passed 
along.  As  he  went  by  the  window  where  Evelyn  and  her 
father  stood,  a  glad  smile  and  a  look  of  recognition  passed 
over  his  face,  and  he  half  stopped  and  raised  his  hand,  as  if 
to  bow  to  them. 

"  Evelyn,  child,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  quickly,  "  look  !  Who 
is  that  ?  " 

"  It  is  Percy  Grey !  " 

The  sudden  shock  was  too  much  for  her  at  that  moment 
when  her  hopes  were  brightest,  and,  with  a  low,  gasping  moan, 
she  sank  unconscious  at  her  father's  feet. 

But  Percy  went  on  with  the  air  of  a  conqueror.  What 
were  defeat  and  imprisonment  to  him?  He  had  seen  her,' and, 
though  he  could  not  have  denned  the  reason  of  the  change,  a 
weight  was  lifted  from  his  heart,  and  all  the  future  grew 
bright.  He  hardly  heard  the  shouts  of  the  rabble,  or  thought 
of  what  awaited  him,  until  a  command  was  given  to  halt, 
and,  as  the  ranks  opened,  the  prisoners  were  marched  into 
the  open  space  enclosed  in  front  of  the  City  Hall,  since  called 
the  Park. 

The  old  City  Hall  was  a  large,  square,  brick  building, 
erected  by  the  worthy  burghers  of  Manhattan  for  more  peace 
ful  purposes,  but  now  converted  into  a  prison ;  and,  with  its 


THE     TRAP     BAITED.  Ill 

heavily-grated  windows  and  double  guard  of  soldiers,  it  seemed 
to  frown  gloomily,  in  the  waning  light,  upon  the  hapless  men 
whom  adverse  fate  now  led  within  its  shadow.  Inside  the  hall 
every  precaution  had  been  taken  for  the  safety  of  the  prison 
ers.  A  grated  iron  barricade,  with  a  door  heavily  barred  and 
chained,  had  been  placed  across  the  hall  at  the  foot  of  the 
staircase,  on  each  side  of  which,  and  in  the  hall  above, 
walked  two  Hessian  soldiers ;  and  on  the  right  hand  of  the 
entrance  was  the  office  of  Cunningham,  the  cruel'  deputy  of 
Gen.  Howe. 

Into  this  room  the  prisoners  were  led,  where,  after  a  rigid 
personal  examination,  a  record  was  made  of  the  dress,  age, 
and  appearance,  of  Gen.  Lee ;  and  then  the  guard  conducted 
him  up  stairs  into  a  closet  adjoining  the  rooms  where  the  most 
noted  prisoners  taken  by  the  British  were  kept ;  and,  it  having 
been  determined  to  treat  him  as  a  deserter  from  that  army, 
rather  than  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  he  was  confined  in  irons. 

After  some  further  consultation,  accompanied  by  taunts  and 
insults  that  made  the  blood  boil  in  their  veins,  the  other  offi 
cers  were  ordered  to  the  Sugar-House.  This  was  a  small, 
circular,  stone  building,  in  Liberty-street,  five  stories  high ; 
each  story  being  divided  into  two  apartments,  and  most  of 
them  crowded  with  human  beings  in  every  stage  of  destitution 
and  misery.  As  Percy  Grey  and  his  companions  entered 
within  the  high  wall  surrounding  this  gloomy  prison,  their 
hearts  sunk.  From  the  narrow  windows  above  them  wasted 
and  pallid  faces  were  looking  out,  and  the  rude  manner  and 
rough  voice  of  the  jailer  who  received  them  from  the  soldiers 


112  AGNES. 

did  not  tend  to  raise  their  expectations  of  the  treatment  they 
might  receive  at  his  hands. 

Calling  his  assistants,  the  jailer  marched  them  up  one  flight 
of  the  narrow  stairs,  and,  opening  a  door,  ushered  them  into  a 
low,  dark  room,  where  a  few  forlorn  objects,  cowering  in  the 
straw,  shrank  away  as  they  entered.  Counting  them  one  by 
one  as  they  went  in,  and  giving  the  last  a  kick  that  threw 
him  prostrate  on  the  floor,  their  brutal  conductor  locked  them 
in,  saying",  with  an  oath,,  to  the  young  man  beside  him, 
"  There,  now,  let  'em  git  out  o'  that  cage,  if  they  can,  before 
the  hangman  comes  to  wring  their  necks !  " 

His  companion  did  not  reply,  and  something  like  an  execra 
tion  escaped  through  his  clenched  teeth  as  he  slowly  descended 
the  stairs  behind  him.  When  they  reached  the  outer  door, 
the  jailer  added, 

"  Now,  off  with  you,  Jem,  and  be  sure  you  're  back  in 
season,  for  it  takes  younger  blood  than  mine  to  keep  warm 
long  in  this  infernal  hole." 

"  What  do  you  think  o'  them  poor  critturs  up  there,  then  ?  " 
said  Jem,  jerking  his  head  towards  the  stairs. 

"  Them  !  blast  'em,  who  cares  if  they  are  cold  ?  Freezin' 
's  good  for  the  Yankees ! "  answered  he,  with  another  oath ; 
and  thus  dismissed  Jem  hastened  away. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE    PRISONER. 

IN  a  low,  one-story  house  in  Nassau-street,  Jem's  mother, 
Mrs.,  or,  as  she  was  generally  called,  "  widow  "  Henderson, 
was  engaged,  as  the  darkness  of  a  winter  evening  came  on,  in 
bringing  inside  her  shop  the  various  articles  that  during  the 
day  had  been  displayed  about  the  door  as  signs  of  the  abun 
dance  and  variety  of  the  goods  to  be  found  within.  The  death 
of  her  husband,  some  years  previous,  having  left  her  destitute, 
she  had  found  occupation  as  housekeeper  in  Mr.  Chester's 
family,  while  her  son  made  himself  useful  in  various  ways 
about  the  house  and  farm.  There  they  had  since  resided, 
until  the  rumors  of  Indian  invasion  had  alarmed  her  patron, 
and,  together  with  other  motives,  induced  him  to  remove  to 
New  York.  Thither  she  followed  him  with  her  son  ;  and,  as 
some  loss  of  property  had  induced  Mr.  Chester  to  dismiss  a 
part  of  his  servants,  she  concluded  to  use  the  capital  accumu 
lated  from  her  wages,  year  by  year,  to  stock  a  small  grocery- 
shop,  which  she  opened  in  the  front  room  of  a  house  belonging 
to  her  former  employer.  She  was  a  woman  of  shrewd  business 
capacities,  and  her  little  shop  soon  became  profitable ;  and, 
10* 


114  AGNES. 

having  obtained  a  situation  for  her  son  as  under-keeper  in 
the  Sugar-House  jail,  she  forced  him  to  accept  it,  though  the 
good-natured  boy  shrank  from  a  work  so  revolting  to  his 
feelings. 

Having  carefully  closed  and  secured  the  shutters,  and 
arranged  everything  in  readiness  for  to-morrow's  business, 
Mrs.  Henderson  counted  the  gains  of  the  day  now  past,  and 
retired  with  them  into  an  interior  apartment.  This  room, 
though  compelled  to  serve  for  kitchen,  parlor,  and  bed-room, 
was  kept  in  nice  order.  A  bright  fire  showed  the  well-sanded 
floor,  and  was  reflected  back  from  the  pewter  cups  and  plates 
which,  scoured  bright  as  silver,  stood  on  the  open  dresser. 
Going  to  the  fireplace,  the  widow  withdrew  one  of  the  tiles 
from  a  corner  near  the  wall,  revealing  in  the  chimney  a  small 
cavity  already  well  filled  with  money. 

She  dropped  the  pieces  she  held  slowly  into  the  hole,  and 
smiled  as  if  the  jingle  of  silver  was  a  pleasant  music  to  her 
ears. 

"  It 's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  any  luck,"  she  said  to 
herself;  "an'  if  the  blessed  war  will  only  last  a  while  longer, 
Jem  an'  I  will  see  old  England  yet  with  a  pretty  penny  in 
our  pockets." 

She  replaced  the  stone,  and,  after  stirring  the  fire,  drew  out 
a  small  square  table,  and  busied  herself  in  arranging  it  for 
supper.  Then  taking  from  the  crane  the  kettle,  under  the 
cover  and  through  the  nose  of  which  the  water  was  leaping 
and  sputtering  convulsively  in  its  efforts  to  escape  the  torment 
of  its  fiery  prison,  she  proceeded  to  make  a  "  drawing  of  tea," 


THE     PRISONER.  115 

carefully  measuring  the  precious  article  in  a  small  silver 
spoon  kept  for  the  purpose,  and  almost  counting  the  leaves  as 
she  poured  them  into  a  black  teapot. 

As  she  was  thus  occupied,  the  door  opened  and  her  son 
entered. 

"  Grlad  to  see  you,  Jem,"  said  his  mother.  "  You  're  all 
in  the  nick  o'  time.  The  kettle  \s  biled,  and  while  you  're 
gettin'  warm,  and  the  tea  's  drawin',  I  '11  fry  the  eggs  in  a 
jiffy." 

Jem  did  not  reply  to  this  cordial  salutation,  but,  throwing 
himself  into  an  arm-chair  standing  in  the  chimney  corner,  he 
pulled  his  hat  over  his  brows,  and  sat  looking  moodily  into 
the  fire.  His  mother  cast  many  an  anxious  glance  at  him  as 
she  bustled  about  the  room,  but  did  not  attempt  to  disturb 
him  until,  having  finished  her  preparations,  she  took  a  seat  at 
the  table,  saying,  cheerfully, 

"Come  on,  Jem!  Ye  an't  asleep,  are  ye?  Come!  the 
eggs  is  done  to  a  turn,  and  the  tea 's  drawed  !  " 

"  I  don't  want  no  tea!  I'm  mad!"  said  Jem,  sulkily, 
giving  his  head  a  toss  that  threw  his  hat  on  the  floor  behind 
him.  "  'T  an't  no  use  talkin',  marm,  I  won't  have  nothin' 
more  to  do  with  that  yer  jail !  " 

"Why,  Jem! — what  ails  ye,  boy?  Got  promoted  into 
the  sarvice  o'  your  lawful  king,  and  you  frettin' !  Don't 
tell  me!" 

"  Sarvice  o'  the  king ! "  replied  Jem,  scornfully,  unawed 
by  his  mother's  well-feigned  astonishment.  "  You  know  well 
enough,  marm,  I  hate  it  like  pison !  " 


116  AGNES. 

"  Well,  'tis  bad,  I  know,"  she  answered,  soothingly;  "but 
you  gets  good  wages,  and  if  'twan't  you  'twould  be  some 
body  else  as  would  have  to  lock  'em  up ;  so  they  would  n't  be 
no  better  off,  and  you  would  n't  be  so  well.  So  you  might  as 
well  eat  your  supper." 

She  enforced  her  philosophical  reflection  by  pushing  tow 
ards  him  a  plate  heaped  with  eggs  and  meat ;  but  he  went  on, 
without  regarding  her. 

"  I  don't  see  what  the  Yankees  let  themselves  be  took  for ! 
I  would  n't  —  I  'd  fight  to  the  last !  And,  if  they  are  took, 
why  can't  they  be  carried  somewhere  else  ?  I  say  it  !s  a 
burnin'  shame,  and  if  the  king  knows  how  they  're  treated, 
he  's " 

"  Why,  Jem  !  —  your  lawful  king !  "  interrupted  widow 
Henderson,  holding  up  both  hands,  in  dismay. 

"  Well,  marm,  I  won't  say  nothin'  about  that,  but  it 's  too 
bad !  They  're  packed  like  sheep  in  the  Provost  and  the 
City  Hall,  and  the  hospitals  is  full,  and  the  Sugar-House ; 
and  down  to  the  Wallabout  they  're  dyin'  by  hundreds.  And 
now  here  's  another  lot !  I  '11  desert !  " 

"  Why,  Jem  !  —  what 's  come  over  ye  ?  "  said  his  mother. 
"  You  an't  no  business  scoldin'  over  that !  Don't  you  know 
that  jest  so  many  as  is  took  prisoners,  jest  so  many  less  is 
left  to  fight?" 

"  You  think  so,  do  ye?  "  he  replied,  sneeringly.  "  See  if 
you  '11  be  glad  when  I  tell  ye  who  's  been  and  got  took  now  ! 
Major  Grey  — that  same  one  Miss  Evelyn  liked  so  well,  and 
took  on  so  about " 


THE     PKISONEK.  117 

"  Miss  Evelyn  did  n't  take  on  about  him  !  She  an't  the 
gal  to  take  on  after  any  young  man,  much  less  one  o'  the 
rebels  that 's  a  fightin'  agin  his  lawful  king ! "  interrupted 
Mrs.  Henderson,  her  womanly  pride  taking  alarm  for  her 
young  lady. 

"  0,"  said  Jem,  striking  his  hand  on  the  table  with  a  force 
that  made  the  dishes  rattle,  "  I  tell  you  she  did  like  him, 
though !  I  was  out  in  the  garden  that  day  'fore  he  went  off, 
and  I  heard  'em  talkin'  behind  the  shrubbery,  —  and  I 
won't  tell  what  I  heard,  nuther,"  he  added,  breaking  off 
suddenly. 

"  Well,  no  matter  what  you  heard,  if  Miss  Evelyn  said  it. 
Risk  her  !  —  she  won't  come  down  to  no  young  feller !  But 
do  eat  your  supper,  Jem !  The  eggs  is  gettin'  cold,  and  cold 
eggs  is  horrid,  any  way,  more  'specially  fried.  Fall  to,  and 
we  can  talk  it  over  arterwards." 

Thus  urged,  and  having  somewhat  relieved  his  feelings  by 
expressing  them,  Jem  "  fell  to  "  with  such  zeal  that  the  eat 
ables  soon  disappeared. 

"  There,  now,"  he  said,  at  length,  as  he  drew  his  hand 
across  his  mouth  by  way  of  napkin,  and  leaned  back  in  hia 
chair,  "  now  I  've  eaten  to  please  you,  marm,  and  you  may 
hear  what  I  've  got  to  say ;  for  I  know,  bad  as  you  hate  the 
rebels,  you'd  hate  worse  to  have  our  Miss  Evelyn's  little 
finger  ache,  let  alone  her  having  her  heart  all  smashed  into 
flinders,  as  't  will  be  if  anything  happens  to  that  young  man." 

"  Well,  talk  away,"  said  his  mother.  "  If  you  've  got  any 
thing  to  say,  say  it.  He  was  a  purty  young  man,  and  pleasant- 


118  AGNES. 

spoken  too,  if  he  was  fightin'  agin  his  lawful  king.  Did  he 
know  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Jem.  "  'T  was  a'most  dark,  and  I  s'pose 
he  did  n't  think,  o'  me  bein'  in  that  dirty  business,  nuther. 
But  I  know'd  him,  the  minute  I  sot  eyes  on  him." 

"Poor  soul!  'tis  hard,  but  I  don't  see  what  we  can  do 
about  it,"  said  the  widow,  thoughtfully.  "  You  gets  good 
wages  there " 

"Well,  now,  for  my  part  I  an't  so  clear  about  that.  Maybe 
we  might  get  him  out  o'  that  cussed  hole " 

"  We !  —  how?"  interrupted  his  mother.  "  Now,  Jem,  don't 
you  go  and  get  into  scrapes!  It  won't  do  no  good,  not  a  bit; 
and  you  're  all  I  've  got  in  this  hull  world,  and  if  anything 
happens  to  you " 

"  Don't  be  an  old  fool,  marm! "  said  her  son,  as  she  paused, 
and  began  wiping  her  eyes.  It  was  rather  a  rough  expres 
sion,  but  it  was  intended  as  a  term  of  endearment,  and  she  so 
understood  it.  Jem  never  called  her  an  "  old  fool  "  when  he 
seriously  meant  to  act  contrary  to  her  wishes ;  and  she  grew 
composed,  and  put  down  her  apron. 

"  Promise  me,  now,  you  won't  do  nothin',"  she  cried.  "  I 
never  will  consent  to  it  —  never  !  " 

"  Well,  well,  don't  cry !  Who  'd  a  thought  you  'd  been 
BO  easy  frightened?"  answered  he,  perceiving  this  was  no  time 
to  reveal  his  half-formed  plans.  "  I  won't  run  my  head  into 
a  noose  without  tellin'  you  first ;  so  wipe  your  old  eyes,  an' 
go  draw  me  a  mug  o'  cider,  for  it 's  time  I  was  off.  It  '11  be 
cold  as  Jericho  walking  them  stone  floors  to-night." 


THE    PRISONER.  119 

Whatever  might  have  been  Jem's  ideas  of  the  climate  of 
Jericho,  his  mother  appeared  to  consider  it  frigid  enough  to 
justify  a  little  of  "  somethin'  warmin',"  in  the  cider,  as  well  as 
numberless  wrappers  and  overcoats.  These  she  adjusted  about 
him  with  great  care ;  for  this  six-foot  specimen  of  humanity 
had  never  to  her  eyes  outgrown  the  care  or  control  he  needed 
when  a  baby. 

Having  arrived  at  the  prison,  Jem  reported  himself  to  the 
jailer,  and,  receiving  from  him  the  keys,  proceeded  to  distrib 
ute  food  to  the  prisoners.  Poor  food  it  was,  and  the 
allowance  to  each  man  so  small  that  they  suffered  constantly 
from  hunger ;  and  when  he  saw  the  crowd  of  eager  faces  that 
greeted  him  as  each  door  was  opened,  his  compassionate 
heart  smote  him  as  he  thought  of  the  plentiful  supper  he  had 
himself  enjoyed.  He  had  often  found  means  of  performing 
little  kindnesses  for  the  unhappy  beings  under  his  charge,  but 
all  he  could  do  unobserved  was  as  nothing  compared  to  the 
accumulation  of  suffering  which  he  had  no  power  to  prevent. 

When  he  entered  the  room  where  Percy  Grey  and  his  com 
panions  were  confined,  a  scene  of  misery  met  his  eyes.  Some 
of  them  were  wounded,  and  all  were  exhausted  by  the  fatigue 
of  their  march  and  long  exposure.  The  cold,  dark  cell,  where 
they  were  crowded,  had  utterly  subdued  the  excitement  that 
hitherto  sustained  them,  and  despair  had  taken  its  place. 
They  had  sunk  into  various  attitudes  of  weariness  and 
dejection  upon  the  straw  with  which  the  floor  was  covered, 
for  the  tender  mercies  of  the  British  allowed  them  neither 
chairs  or  bedstead, 


120  AGNES. 

Percy,  who  was  engaged  in  binding  up  the  wounded  arm 
of  one  of  his  comrades,  started  when  he  heard  the  voice  that 
called  upon  some  of  the  stronger  and  more  selfish  among 
those  who  had  long  been  confined  there,  to  relinquish  to  the 
new  comers  a  portion  of  the  food  they  were  eagerly  devouring. 
After  a  moment  of  confused  recollection,  he  recalled  to  mind 
the  merry  tones  he  had  so  often  heard  in  the  fields  of  Chester 
Close ;  and  Jem,  seeing  the  earnest  gaze  fixed  upon  him,  took 
advantage  of  a  moment  when  his  assistant  was  engaged  in 
distributing  food,  and  went  to  the  spot  where  Percy  stood, 
raising  his  finger  to  his  lips  in  token  of  silence. 

"  Is  it  you,  Jem  ?  "  said  Percy,  in  a  low  tone.  "  How  can 
you  be  in  this  place  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it 's  me  —  more  's  the  pity !  "  was  the  whispered 
reply.  "  But  don't  say  nothing  afore  folks.  Write  what  you 
want  to  know."  And,  favored  by  the  obscurity  of  the  cell,  he 
thrust  paper  and  pencil  into  Percy's  hand. 

"  But,  Miss  Evelyn  —  how  is  she?  "  persisted  he. 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Jem;  "  all  right  there,  I  reckon.  Write  to 
her,  if  you  want  to,  and  give  me  the  note  to-morrow." 

So  saying,  he  turned  away  abruptly,  and  Percy,  taking  the 
hint,  did  not  follow  him  with  any  more  questions.  A  moment 
after,  a  rough  voice  exclaimed,  "  Here,  you  Yankee  rebels, 
come  and  eat  while  you  can,  for  this  is  all  any  of  you  '11  get 
till  to-morrow  night !  " 

And  this  was  literally  true,  for  during  all  the  time  they 
were  inmates  of  that  horrible  prison,  their  food,  coarse  and 
unpalatable  as  it  was,  was  served  to  them  but  once  in  twenty- 


THE    PRISONER.  121 

four  hours.  The  head  jailer,  who  kept  the  keys,  delivered 
them  to  his  young  associates  each  evening  for  an  hour,  when 
they  were  expected  to  feed  the  prisoners,  and  to  see  that  none 
had  escaped  or  died ;  and  then,  having  given  the  keys  into 
his  hands,  they  took  turns  in  standing  as  sentinels  in  the 
passages  of  the  prison.  But  in  no  case,  even  of  sickness  or 
death,  would  he  allow  the  doors  to  be  opened  at  any  other 
time. 

These  cruelties,  which  were  afterwards  disowned  and 
severely  commented  on  by  Gen.  Howe,  were  inflicted  by  the 
callous  and  profligate  men  to  whom  the  care  of  these  wretched 
captives  had  been  committed  by  the  deputy  Cunningham. 
Yet  the  fact  that  such  needless  sufferings  were  not  intended 
by  the  mother-country  did  not  prevent  the  bitter  and  vindic 
tive  feelings  that  for  a  long  time  rankled  deeply,  and  were 
easily  aroused  to  activity  at  the  mention  of  the  Sugar-House 
and  the  Wallabout. 

The  short  meal  ended,  the  attendants  withdrew,  leaving 
Percy  and  his  companions  in  darkness,  save  for  the  moonlight 
streaming  in  through  windows  cut  in  the  thick  wall.  But, 
alas !  those  unglazed  windows  admitted  also  the  keen  night- 
wind,  which  chilled  them  to  the  heart.  The  straw  on  the 
floor  was  filthy  in  the  extreme,  and  filled  with  vermin ;  but 
before  morning  the  cold  was  so  intense  they  were  glad  to  bury 
themselves  in  it,  and  lie  close  together,  that  the  concentration 
of  animal  heat  might  keep  them  from  freezing. 

Many  of  these  were  men  fondly  cared  for,  and  some  of 
them  young  and  delicately  nurtured  all  their  lives,  till  now. 
11 


122  AGNES. 

For  their  sakes  what  true  hearts  were  even  then  breaking 
with  the  wearing  sickness  of  hope  deferred  ;  what  gentle  eyes 
were  dim  with  tears  of  vain  weeping;  what  soul-wrung 
prayers  were  ascending  to  heaven ! 

0 !  at  this  distance  of  time,  at  this  height  of  prosperity, 
how  impossible  it  is  for  us  to  fathom  the  deep  seas  of  suffering 
in  which  the  foundations  of  our  liberty  were  laid  ! 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

A   SUCCESSFUL   PLOT. 

A  WEEK  had  passed  since  the  occurrence  of  the  scenes 
described  in  the  last  chapter.  To  Percy  Grey  and  his  com 
panions  it  had  been  a  week  of  privation  and  misery,  alleviated, 
indeed,  to  the  former  by  the  hopes  he  entertained  of  ultimate 
escape,  and  of  seeing  again,  if  only  for  a  moment,  the  bright 
object  of  so  many  dreams  and  imaginings.  To  Evelyn  and  her 
father  it  had  been  a  time  of  anxious  consultation  with  Jem 
Henderson,  whose  budding  purpose  to  effect  the  escape  of  his 
prisoner  ripened  into  full  decision  when  he  saw  the  pale  face 
of  his  young  mistress.  For  her  he  cherished  a  chivalrous 
devotion,  that  would  have  led  him  to  brave  even  greater 
danger  than  attended  this  enterprise. 

Secure  of  Jem's  faithfulness,  Evelyn  had  sent  many  mes 
sages  to  her  lover ;  and  Mr.  Chester,  whose  doting  affection 
for  his  child  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  resist  her  entrea 
ties,  now  that  he  had  opened  his  heart  to  her,  had  been  eager 
to  furnish  means  for  Percy's  liberation. 

Saturday  night  closed  in,  dark  and  stormy.  The  wind 
howled,  and  the  snow  fell  fast.  Few  who  could  remain  in 


doors  were  exposed  to  the  inclement  weather;  and  as  Mr. 
Chester  faced  the  blast,  on  his  way  to  the  widow  Henderson's, 
he  drew  his  fur-lined  cloak  about  him,  and  shuddered  as  he 
thought  of  those  who,  without  fire  or  sufficient  clothing,  were 
feeling  that  keen,  snow-laden  wind  sweep  through  the  open 
windows  of  their  prison. 

He  found  a  bright  fire  in  the  widow's  dwelling,  and  Mrs. 
Henderson  herself  at  that  hour  engaged  in  washing  up  "  the 
tea-things."  But  she  did  not  give  him  her  usual  noisy  wel 
come.  She  could  hardly  forgive  him  for  the  plan,  which  she 
believed  would  only  bring  trouble  to  herself,  and  danger  to 
her  son.  Moreover,  in  her  intense  loyalty,  she  had  some 
scruples  of  conscience  about  the  propriety  of  a  scheme  "  to 
help  them  away  as  would  go  right  off  and  fight  agin  their 
lawful  king."  It  required  all  her  gratitude  and  affection  for 
Mr.  Chester  and  Evelyn  to  overcome  these  feelings ;  but,  after 
many  arguments  and  entreaties,  she  had  reluctantly  promised 
to  aid  him,  since  her  aid  was  necessary.  They  understood  how 
disagreeable  the  matter  was  to  her,  and,  without  noticing  her 
taciturnity,  Mr.  Chester  now  turned  to  Jem,  who,  comfortably 
seated  before  the  burning  embers,  was  engaged  in  a  scientific 
department  of  the  culinary  art,  which  he  called  "  toasting  his 
shins." 

"  Well,  Jem,"  said  he,  seating  himself  beside  him,  "  this 
will  be  a  bitter  cold  night  for  our  friends  in  the  jail.  I 
hope  one  of  them,  at  least,  won't  have  to  endure  many  more 
such." 

"  I  hope  not,  nuther !  "  said  Jem,  "  and  I  was  jest  a  tellin' 


A    SUCCESSFUL     PLOT.  125 

marm  I  think  we  might  as  well  try  Monday  night  as  any  — 
that  is,  if  you  can  get  the  pass  you  spoke  about." 

"  I  think  there  will  be  no  difficulty  in  doing  so,"  replied 
Mr.  Chester.  "  I  have  sent  a  servant  into  the  country  once 
already  since  we  left  the  Close,  and  it  can't  excite  suspicion 
if  I  request  a  similar  passport  for  Major  Grey.  I  will  hire  a 
boatman  to  take  him  across  to  the  Jersey  shore,  and  when 
once  he  has  passed  the  line  of  guards  he  will  be  safe,  and  can 
go  where  he  pleases.  This  will  be  my  care.  Is  your  part 
arranged  ?  Could  you  get  the  false  key  made  ?  " 

"  Easy  as  could  be,  and  no  questions  asked,"  said  Jem, 
laughing.  "  I  blacked  my  face,  and  put  on  a  wig,  and  talked 
nigger ;  and  I  reckon  the  scamp  that  made  it  is  used  to  that 
sort  o'  business,  for  he  didn't  ask  no  questions  when  I  showed 
him  the  gold  piece." 

"  That  is  all  safe,  then,"  said  Mr.  Chester.  "  Now,  when 
will  you  use  it  ?  " 

"  0,  deary  me  !  an'  to  think  how- 1  've  been  thanking  my 
stars,  through  this  whole  blessed  war,  that  Jem  was  n't  a 
rebel ! "  soliloquized  Mrs.  Henderson,  with  a  groan.  "  And 
him  getting  such  good  wages,  too !  " 

"  Monday  night  there  won't  be  any  moon,  and  that  '11  be 
the  best  time,"  said  Jem,  without  heeding  her.  •*'  If  this 
storm  clears  off  so  as  to  give  Mr.  Grey  a  chance  to  get  away 
the  next  day,  we  '11  try  it  then.  I  Ve  been  dreadful  in  hopes 
the  river  would  freeze  over  solid  enough  for  him  to  cross  on 
the  ice,  and  not  have  to  trust  no  boatman — besides  bein' 
dangerous  as  'tis  now,  all  full  o'  floatin'  ice." 
11* 


126  AGNES. 

"  Why  could  n't  he  wait  a  while,  then  ?  The  ice  must  soon 
become  firm,"  said  Mr.  Chester. 

"  Because  it 's  a  choice  between  hangin'  and  drownin'  with 
him,  and  I  reckon  he  'd  like  drownin'  best  o'  the  two.  When 
the  jails  get  too  full,  and  they  don't  die  off  fast  enough,  they 
take  out  a  few,  now  and  then,  and  hang  'em  out  behind  the 
Provost  there,  in  dark  nights.  They  don't  make  much  noise 
about  it;  but  they  do  it,  and  Mr.  Grey  's  as  likely  to  be  took 
out  as  anybody." 

Jem  shuddered  as  he  said  this,  and  for  a  little  while  neither 
of  his  hearers  felt  like  answering  his  remark. 

"  You  think,  then,  it  will  be  safest  for  him  to  leave  our 
house  immediately  after  his  release  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester,  at 
length. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  do,"  replied  Jem,  emphatically.  "  They  '11 
be  sure  not  to  find  out  he  's  gone  till  feeding-time  comes  next 
evening,  for  that 's  the  only  time  the  cells  are  opened.  Thea 
it  '11  be  too  dark  to  do  much  in  the  way  o'  looking  for  him, 
even  if  they  feel  like  taking  the  trouble ;  so  he  '11  be  sure  of 
twenty-four  hours,  and  that  ought  to  put  him  out  o'  harm's 
way.  I  've  fixed  it  up  fust  rate,"  continued  he,  laughing. 
"  All  this  week,  when  I  've  been  out  among  folks  in  the  street, 
I've  had  a  most  awful  toothache,  and  had  my  face  all 
wrapped  up,  and  worn  my  old  cloak  all  wrapped  round  me. 
Now,  you  see,  if  Mr.  Grey  happens  to  have  to  speak  to  any 
of  the  guard,  and  his  voice  don't  sound  jest  like  mine,  they  '11 
think  it 's  the  toothache,  and  his  face  '11  be  all  wrapped  up,  so 
they  won't  see  so  quick  't  an't  me ;  and  the  cloak  '11  help  hide 


A    SUCCESSFUL     PLOT.  12" 

the  difference  too.  I  've  smuggled  in  a  suit  of  my  clothes  for 
him  to  put  on  over  his  'n,  for  I  'm  stouter  'n  he  is,  —  he 's 
growin'  dreadful  thin,  Mr.  Chester,  —  and  he 's  jest  about  as 
tall  as  I  be.  I  don't  want  him  to  leave  his  own  clothes, 
'cause  you  know  somebody  might  ask  who  he  changed  with." 

"  Well  done,  Jem !  "  said  his  guest,  smiling.  "  You  have 
really  quite  a  talent  for  this  business." 

"  Let  Jem  alone  for  that !  "  interrupted  Mrs.  Henderson, 
gratified  by  this  compliment  to  her  son's  ingenuity.  "  He  's 
the  beatermost  hand  to  make  plans  and  think  of  everything 
aforehand  —  only  I  hopes  no  harm  won't  come  of  it ! "  she 
added,  sighing. 

"  0,  never  you  fear,  marm  !  I  don't  believe  my  neck  '11 
stretch  for  this,  anyhow.  I  've  got  it  all  fixed  with  Mr. 
Grey.  It 's  my  .watch  the  first  half  o'  the  night,  an'  when 
Bill  Grimes  comes  in  and  takes  my  place,  I  goes  out  with  the 
guard,  and  the  gates  is  shut  agin  till  morning.  Well,  I  'm 
goin'  to  have  him  take  my  place  in  the  entry,  all  fixed  out  in 
my  clothes,  you  know,  and  when  the  guard  changes  he  goes 
out  with  them,  same  as  I  allers  do.  And  marm,  here,  is  to 
be  on  hand  to  show  him  the  way  to  your  house." 

"  What  will  you  do,  meantime?  " 

"  0,  I  've  found  a  place  under  the  stairs,  among  some 
barrels  stowed  away  up  in  the  third  story.  I  can  hide  there, 
and  some  time  the  next  day,  when  there  an't  too  many  round, 
I  come  out  and  lounge  down  stairs,  same  as  if  I  'd  been  up 
on  an  arrand.  Nobody '11  mind  me;  I'm  allers  about 
there." 


128  AGNES. 

"  Then  you  will  bring  Major  Grey  to  my  house  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Chester,  turning  to  the  widow,  who,  having  completed  her 
household  arrangements,  had  seated  herself  with  her  knitting. 

"  Why,  yes,"  she  replied,  gloomily.  "  Jem  's  got  me  into 
the  scrape,  and  I  suppose  I  must  do  my  share.  An'  the 
sooner  the  better,  I  say,  for  I  'm  wearin'  away  to  a  thread- 
paper  worryin'  over  it.  I  hope  we  shan't  all  smart  for  it ; 
but,  if  anything  happens  to  Jem,  I  '11  never  forgive  you  to  my 
dyin'  day,  sir  —  that  I  won't !  " 

"  We  must  trust  to  Providence  for  safety,"  said  he. 

"  Providence  !  I  calls  it  a  clear  runnin'  in  the  face  and 
eyes  of  Providence  !  Gettin'  us  into  sich  a  scrape,  and  we 
all  settled  so  comfortable,  and  the  blessed  war  a  bein'  sich 
a  good  thing  for  us ! "  interrupted  Mrs.  Henderson,  indig 
nantly. 

"  But  I  don't  see  as  anything  can  be  proved  against  your 
son,  even  should  suspicion  fall  on  him  after  the  escape  is  dis 
covered.  And  if  so,  I  have  sufficient  interest  to  protect  him. 
So  don't  be  afraid." 

"  To  be  sure,  Mr.  Grey  was  a  purty  young  man,"  said  the 
widow,  thoughtfully,  "  and  well-behaved  when  he  was  .to  our 
house  to  the  Close ;  and  he  gave  me  the  beautifullest  bright- 
figured  calimanco  when  he  went  away  —  an'  if  Miss  Evelyn 

likes  him well,  Mr.  Chester,  I  '11  do  my  best,  and  I  hopes 

Providence  will  take  care  of  us,  as  you  say,  though  he  is 
fightin'  agin  his  lawful  king." 

"  You  must  n't  let  your  loyalty  overcome  your  humanity," 
eaid  Mr.  Chester.  "  Don't  you  remember  the  Scripture  bids 


A     SUCCESSFUL     PLOT.  129 

us  '  open  the  prison  doors,  and  let  the  oppressed  go  free'?    So 
you  see  it  is  all  right." 

"  Well,  now,  I  never  looked  at  it  in  jest  that  light  afore," 
replied  the  widow.  "  But  who  'd  a  thought  o'  hearing  you  a 
quotin'  Scripter  agin  your  lawful  king  ?  " 

"  Not  quoting  it  against  his  majesty,  but  in  favor  of  Major 
Grey's  escape,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  smiling. 

"  Any  way,  now  we  're  in  for  it,  I  'm  kind  of  glad  there  is 
Scripter  for  it,"  replied  Mrs.  Henderson.  "I  s'pose  we  must 
keep  on,  for  I  do  believe  my  Jem  would  fret  his  life  out  if  he 
should  think  he  had  n't  done  all  he  could  to  please  Miss  Eve 
lyn.  He -thinks  a  dreadful  sight  of  her,  and  always  has,  ever 
since  she  took  sich  care  of  him  and  me  when  we  had  the  fever, 
and  nobody  else  would  come  near  us." 

Jem  blushed  up  to  the  roots  of  his  yellow  hair  as  his 
mother  uttered  these  last  words,  and,  rising  hastily,  signifie. 
his  intention  of  going  out  to  his  watch  in  the  jail.  Mr.  Ches 
ter  also  took  leave,  after  arranging  with  the  widow  to  inform 
him  if  anything  occurred  to  prevent  the  accomplishment  of 
their  designs. 

Monday  morning  dawned  gloriously ;  for  the  storm  had 
ended  in  a  warm  rain,  which  obliterated  every  trace  of  winter, 
and  left  the  air  just  cool  enough  to  be  invigorating.  No 
weather  could  be  more  favorable  to  his  purposes  for  the  ensu 
ing  night,  and  Mr.  Chester  went  early  to  the  City  Hall  to 
obtain  from  Cunningham  a  passport  by  favor  of  which  Percy 
Grey  might  escape  through  the  British  lines. 

When  he  reached  the  Park,  he  found  Sergeant  O'Keefe 


130  AGNES. 

and  several  of  the  English  officers,  among  whom  was  Stanley, 
gathered  in  a  group  about  the  door,  and  chatting  gayly  to 
gether  as  they  looked  on  while  Cunningham  was  drilling 
the  American  prisoners  under  his  charge,  for  the  double  pur 
pose  of  giving  them  exercise  and  affording  amusement  to  his 
companions.  Almost  all  those  who  endured  this  indignity 
were  men  who  had  held  offices  of  rank  and  distinction  in  the 
service  of  their  country ;  and  the  feelings  with  which  they 
endured  these  and  similar  insults  which  were  often  heaped 
upon  them  may  be  better  imagined  than  described.  Upon 
Mr.  Chester's  approach,  Cunningham  turned  to  him,  and, 
after  the  usual  salutation,  said,  pointing  with  his  sword  to  the 
group  of  prisoners, 

"  You  see  I  'm  giving  my  illustrious  friends  an  opportunity 
to  display  their  skill  in  military  evolutions." 

Mr.  Chester  bowed  gravely,  but,  making  no  reply  to  this 
sneer,  signified  his  desire  to  transact  the  business  which 
brought  him  thither.  Cunningham,  who  knew  his  connection 
with  Lord  Evansdale,  and  therefore  esteemed  him  a  person  of 
importance,  immediately  ushered  him  into  his  office,  and  pre 
pared  to  write  the  passport  he  requested.  In  doing  this  it 
became  necessary  to  mention  the  personal  appearance  of  the 
servant  who  was  to  carry  it,  and  Stanley,  who  had  lingered 
near  the  door,  heard  the  description  thus  given. 

It  was  satisfactory  in  one  respect,  for  it  was  such  that  Mr. 
Chester  could  not  himself  use  it  with  any  safety,  if  he  wished 
to  leave  the  city ;  but  Stanley  was  seized  with  a  violent  desire 
to  know  if  the  proposed  messenger  portended  any  further  com- 


A     SUCCESSFUL     PLOT.  131 

munication  with  the  rebel  camp.  Thinking  of  this,  he  walked 
slowly  away  from  the  spot,  and,  turning  into  Nassau-street, 
was  proceeding  to  his  lodgings,  when,  at  the  corner  of  Liberty- 
street,  his  progress  was  hindered  by  a  crowd  which  had  col 
lected  on  the  sidewalk  before  the  door  of  a  large  building  that 
stood  there.  This  had  been  the  "  Middle  Dutch  Church,"  but 
when  the  city  passed  into  the  enemy's  hands  it  was  converted 
into  a  hospital.  Of  late,  however,  it  had  been  appropriated 
to  another  use,  less  in  keeping  with  its  sacred  character.  The 
windows  had  been  taken  out,  and  the  space  within  the  walls 
strewed  thickly  with  tan.  A  pole  had  been  placed  across 
the  centre  for  the  convenience  of  equestrian  exercise,  and  now 
a  party  of  dragoons  were  in  full  practice,  leaping  and  riding 
around  the  area.  The  crowd  were  occupied  in  watching  these 
movements,  and,  though  a  few  looked  on  with  frowning 
brows,  and  angry  words  uttered  in  an  under  tone,  the  majority 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  sport,  regardless  of  the  wanton  desecra 
tion. 

Stanley  stopped  a  moment  to  watch  the  proceedings. 

"  Hi ! "  said  a  voice  at  his  side,  as  a  tall  dragoon  cleared 
the  pole  with  a  leap  that  carried  him  several  feet  higher  than 
the  others,  "  Hi !  dat  yer  feller  wid  the  long  tail,  he  smart 
one  for  jump  !  " 

Stanley  recognized  the  voice  as  that  of  a  negro  boy  whom 
he  had  often  met  at  Mr.  Chester's.  A  sudden  thought  oc 
curred  to  him,  and,  beckoning  the  boy  away  from  the  group, 
he  continued  his  walk.  Juniper  followed,  a  little  surprised, 
and  curious  to  know  for  what  he  was  wanted. 


132  A  Q  N  E  S  . 

"  Good-morning,  Juniper !  "  said  Stanley,  turning  to  him, 
with  unwonted  suavity,  as  they  entered  a  quiet  street. 

"  Mornin',  massa  !  "  replied  he,  with  a  grin. 

"  How  are  the  folks  at  your  house,  this  morning?  Is  Miss 
Evelyn  well  ?  "  proceeded  his  questioner. 

"  Thankee,  massa,"  replied  the  negro,  consequentially. 
"  Sally  and  me,  we 's  peart,  and  ole  massa 's  so 's  to  be  totin' ; 
but  Miss  Evelyn  an't  so  bery  well  dis  week  past.  'Pears  like 
she  hab  de  doldrums." 

"The  what?"  asked  Stanley. 

"  'Pears  like  she  'd  been  cryin'  ebery  mornin'.  Don'o  what 
for,  I  sure,  massa." 

This  unexpected  reply  threw  Stanley  into  so  serious  a  revery 
that  for  some  time  he  was  silent ;  and  Juniper,  supposing  the 
conversation  ended,  was  beginning  to  lag  behind,  with  a  view 
of  returning  to  the  riding-school,  when  Stanley,  stopping  in 
his  walk,  said  to  him,  suddenly, 

"  How  many  servants  does  your  master  keep  ?  " 

"  Why,  massa,"  said  Jumper,  in  an  apologetic  tone,  "  yer 
see,  what  wid  sellin'  the  farm-stuff  for  nuffin,  and  movin'  up 
here,  and  all,  ole  massa  done  got  rid  o'  some  o'  de  property, 
I  s'pect,  and  so  we  don't  live  like  we  did  at  all,  we  don't. 
Dere  used  to  be  a  power  o'  servants,  and  now  dere  an't  but 
me,  and  Sally,  —  she  my  sister,  ye  know,  massa,  —  and  Sam, 
de  coachee  —  dat  all.  Mighty  poor  show  dat !  " 

"  And  does  any  one  ever  come  to  your  house, — any  servant 
or  countryman,  I  mean,  —  a  tall  man,  with  brown  hair  and 


A     SUCCESSFUL     PLOT.  133 

light  complexion  ?     Think,  now  !     I  '11  give  you  something 
to  remember." 

The  negro  scratched  his  woolly  head,  undecided  whether  to 
tell  the  truth  and  lose  the  promised  reward,  or  to  make  up  a 
lie  to  suit  the  occasion.  But,  being  entirely  ignorant  of  what 
might  be  the  issue  of  this  strange  questioning,  he  concluded 
it  was  best  to  be  truthful,  and  replied, 

"  No,  massa,  neber  see  no  sich  hereabouts." 

Stanley  knew  him  to  be  a  sly,  bright  fellow,  and,  fixing  his 
eyes  on  him  significantly,  said, 

"  Juniper,  can  I  trust  you  to  do  something  for  me,  if  I 
pay  you  well  for  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  massa,  on'y  ole  massa  might  find  it  out,"  was  the 
reply,  in  a  dubious  tone. 

"He  need  know  nothing  about  it,  if  you  are  careful," 
said  the  tempter.  "  Now  listen  to  me.  You  like  money,  of 
course  ?  " 

44  Hit  me  dere !  "  replied  the  boy,  snapping  his  fingers  and 
showing  a  row  of  gleaming  ivory.  "  Dis  nigger  an't  no 
fool!" 

"  Now,  be  careful,  and  do  as  I  tell  you,"  said  Stanley, 
smiling.  "  Such  a  man  as  I  have  described  will  come  to  your 
master's  house  soon,  —  to-day  or  to-morrow,  probably,  —  and 
I  want  you  to  watch  and  find  out  what  he  comes  for,  and  how 
long  he  stays,  and  where  he  is  going.  When  you  know  all, 
come  and  tell  me.  I  will  give  you  a  guinea ;  and  if  you  find 
out  without  letting  any  one  know,  I  will  give  you  two.  Do 
you  understand  ?  " 

12 


134  AGNES. 

"  Yes,  massa.  Dis  chile  knows  how  to  keep  dark  with 
both  eyes  open." 

"  Decidedly  dark,  I  should  think !  "  said  Stanley,  glancing 
at  his  ebony  visage ;  and,  slipping  a  piece  of  silver  into  Juni 
per's  hand  to  insure  his  fidelity,  he  added,  "  I  shall  expect  to 
hear  from  you  before  long.  You  know  where  I  live  ?  " 

"  Yes,  massa ! "  replied  the  negro,  and  they  parted,  the 
one  to  plan  and  scheme,  the  other,  full  of  his  new  charge,  to 
proceed  rapidly  homeward.  The  first  person  he  saw  was  his 
young  mistress,  who  was  wandering  listlessly  from  room  to 
room,  too  anxious  and  excited  to  be  able  to  remain  quiet,  and 
with  the  shadow  of  fear  or  trouble  dimming  the  light  of  her 
eyes. 

How  wearily  the  day  passed  to  her !  How  its  hours 
dragged  themselves  along  in  the  monotonous  gloom  of  the 
prison  where  Percy  counted  their  flight  by  the  beatings  of  his 
own  heart,  throbbing  high  and  strong  with  the  hope  of  free 
dom  ! 

In  spite  of  the  hardships  he  had  endured  from  cold  and 
hunger,  and  the  discomforts  of  his  close  confinement,  the  past 
week  had  been  the  happiest  he  had  experienced  for  months. 
He  had  received  daily  communications  from  Evelyn.  The  fear 
of  her  father's  displeasure  was  removed,  and,  in  her  pity  for 
the  sufferings  of  his  imprisonment,  she  had  betrayed  her  feel 
ings  and  her  hopes  in  these  little  perfumed  billets  much  more 
freely  than  maidenly  reserve  would  have  allowed,  had  their 
circumstances  been  different,  but  with  a  naivete  so  perfectly 
delightful  to  Percy,  that  he  sometimes  half  dreaded  the 


A    SUCCESSFUL     PLOT.  135 

termination  of  a  captivity  which  was  thus  alleviated.  This 
evening  was  to  decide  his  fate.  Happiness,  freedom,  home, 
and  an  honorable  career  in  the  service  of  his  country,  would 
be  his,  if  the  attempt  succeeded.  If  it  failed,  there  would 
remain  to  him  only  a  speedy  and  ignominious  death. 

The  alternative  presented  itself  again  and  again,  as  he 
paced  the  narrow  bounds  of  his  cell  in  the  gloom  of  twilight ; 
but  he  thrust  it  from  him  with  the  energy  of  a  brave  spirit. 
He  would  succeed.  No  'anxiety  should  embitter  the  moment 
which  was  to  restore  him  to  Evelyn.  No  dark  foreboding 
should  dim  the  brightness  of  the  few  hours  he  hoped  to  enjoy 
in  her  presence. 

By  means  of  writing  materials  furnished  by  Jem,  they  had 
arranged  the  details  of  their  plan  of  escape  without  seeming 
to  communicate  with  each  other;  and  now,  when  the  evening 
meal  was  brought  in,  he  found  means  to  ascertain,  by  a  word 
and  a  sign,  that  all  was  ready  for  the  adventure.  He  did  not 
dare  lie  down,  lest  the  cold  and  darkness  should  overcome  his 
senses  with  sleep  ;  he  could  not  walk  the  floor  without  tread 
ing  on  his  companions ;  and  therefore  he  waited  until  nearly 
midnight,  leaning  against  the  stone  wall,  on  which  the  moisture 
from  the  breath  of  the  sleepers  around  him  congealed  in  thick 
frost,  listening  to  the  measured  tread  of  the  sentinel,  and,  not 
withstanding  his  solicitude,  scarcely  able  to  keep  his  enfeebled 
system  from  yielding  to  the  drowsiness  induced  by  the  chill 
night-air,  and  his  constrained  position.  At  length  the  key 
turned  in  the  lock,  and  a  thrill  ran  through  his  whole  frame, 
restoring  him  at  once  to  life  and  energy,  as  he  saw  the  door 


A  O  N?  E  8  . 

slowly  open,  and  felt  on  his  arm  tho  friendly  grasp  of  his 
liberator. 

The  moment  the  door  was  closed  behind  them,  Jem  led  him 
to  a  dark  corner  under  the  stairs  leading  to  the  upper  stories 
of  the  building,  and  assisted  him  to  dress  in  clothes  he  had  pro 
vided,  similar  to  those  he  was  himself  accustomed  to  wear. 
This  done,  his  face  was  bandaged  in  a  thick  woollen  cloth,  a 
large  hat  pulled  over  his  eyes,  and  Jem's  plaid  cloak  trans 
ferred  to  his  shoulders. 

"  There,"  said  Jem,  in  a  whisper,  when  all  was  completed, 
"  now  I  think  you  '11  do.  Take  my  gun  and  walk  up  and 
down  afore  the  dooj^liere,  till  the  guard  is  changed  —  that 
won't  be  long.  When  you  hear  Tom  Shave  coming  up,  you 
better  start  to  go  down,  so  as  to  have  your  back  to  the  light 
when  he  meets  you.  Just  stop  to  give  him  the  gun,  and,  if 
he  speaks  to  you,  make  a  sign  as  if  your  tooth  ached  awful 
bad,  and  hurry  on.  When  you  get  to  the  door,  old  Hunks, 
there,  '11  be  waitin'  to  let  you  out ;  but  he  's  half  drunk  this 
time  o'  night,  and  he  won't  trouble  ye.  The  only  danger  is 
from  the  sentinel  at  the  gate.  He  allers  holds  the  lantern 
right  in  a  feller's  face  when  we  go  out,  but  you  're  so  wrapped 
up  I  don't  think  he  '11  notice  you  particular.  Fact,  I  should 
most  think  't  was  me  myself,  if  I  did  n't  know.  So,  good-by. 
I  '11  go  stow  myself  away  before  the  guard  changes.  Mind 
what  I  told  you,  and  march  right  out  after  the  guard,  —  and 
the  countersign  between  you  and  marm  is  '  Sir  William.' 
Don't  mind  marm,  if  she  seems  a  little  cross.  She  's  a  good- 
natured  old  cretur,  but  she  's  an  awful  baby  about  me." 


A    SUCCESSFUL     PLOT.  137 

"  Good-by  ! "  said  Percy.     "  I  will  not  say  how  much  I 
thank  you,  for  words  would  poorly  express  my  feelings ;  but 

I  hope " 

'  "  Pshaw ! "    interrupted  Jem,  "  don't  talk  to  me  in  that 
way !     Only  mind  your  eye,  for  all  depends  on  you,  now." 

So  saying,  he  wrung  his  companion's  hand  with  a  parting 
grasp,  and,  turning  away,  rapidly  ascended  the  stairs  to  his 
hiding-place.  There  he  remained  concealed  effectually  until 
morning,  when,  hearing  no  one  in  the  upper  halls  of  the 
prison,  he  emerged  from  his  nook  and  sauntered  slowly  down 
stairs.  Near  the  door  he  found  the  jailer  gossipping  over 
the  fire  in  his  little  room  with  some  of  his  cronies,  and,  join 
ing  their  conversation,  sat  with  them  till  they  went  out,  when 
he  accompanied  them.  Thus  gaining  the  street  unsuspected 
and  unquestioned,  he  speedily  rejoined  his  mother,  who, 
clasping  him  convulsively  in  her  arms,  wept  over  him  as  if 
she  had  not  expected  to  see  him  again. 
12* 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE    SPY. 

MEANTIME,  Percy  Grey,  thoroughly  disguised  in  his  new 
dress,  had  hardly  commenced  his  duties  as  sentinel,  when  the 
sound  of  voices  and  the  rattling  of  arms  outside,  followed  by 
a  loud  rapping  at  the  door,  announced  that  the  moment  of 
liberation  was  at  hand.  After  some  difficulty  and  delay,  the 
heaw  jailer  was  sufficiently  aroused  from  his  drunken  sleep  to 
open  the  door,  and  in  another  moment  a  step  was  heard  on 
the  stairs. 

Percy  descended  a  few  steps  to  meet  Tom  Shave,  who  took 
the  gun,  with  a  muttered  curse  on  the  weather,  and  left  him 
at  liberty  to  descend.  He  went  on  rapidly,  and  found  himself 
in  the  yard  of  the  prison.  Here  the  guard  was  just  ready 
to  march,  and,  taking  his  place  behind  them,  he  muffled  his 
face  in  the  cloak,  and  followed  them  out.  His  heart  beat 
rapidly  as  he  saw  the  sentinel  raise  his  lantern  and  flash  the 
light  into  the  faces  of  each  one  who  passed  him ;  but  it  was 
done  mechanically,  and  the  man  did  not  notice  it  was  a  thin, 
pale  face,  and  not  the  healthy  countenance  of  Jem  Henderson, 
which  was  wrapped  in  these  bandages. 


THE    SPY.  139 

The  gate  shut  behind  him,  and  the  guard  marched  down 
street,  while  Percy,  as  he  had  been  directed,  went  in  the  other 
direction,  and  turned  down  the  first  cross  street.  Here  a 
woman  came  suddenly  from  the  projecting  angle  of  a  building, 
and,  laying  her  hand  on  his  cloak,  accosted  him  with  the  words 
agreed  on. 

"  Is  this  Sir  William  ?  " 

"It  is ;  let  us  proceed !  "  was  the  reply,  and  his  guide  led 
the  way  rapidly  through  side  streets  and  lanes,  where  in  the 
darkness  they  were  unobserved,  until  they  arrived  at  Mr. 
Chester's  house.  No  light  was  visible,  but  Mrs.  Henderson, 
taking  a  stick  from  the  ground,  struck  three  times  against  one 
of  the  front  windows,  and  immediately  the  door  was  opened 
cautiously.  He  turned  to  thank  his  conductor,  who  had  pre 
served  an  obstinate  silence  during  their  walk ;  but  she  had 
already  disappeared,  and  he  entered  the  house.  The  door 
closed  behind  him  instantly.  All  around  was  dark,  but  a 
voice  cautioned  him  to  silence,  and  a  grasp  on  his  hand  led 
him  through  the  hall  into  a  back  room,  where  a  fire  was 
blazing.  Percy  tore  from  his  face  the  bandage,  and,  drop 
ping  his  cloak,  cast  a  quick  glance  around.  A  young  girl 
stood  by  the  table,  with  one  hand  half  extended,  as  if  in 
welcome,  while  the  other  was  pressed  to  her  heart.  He 
sprang  forward,  and  in  another  moment  Evelyn's  voice  was  in 
his  ear,  and  her  agitated  face  was  hiding  its  blushes  on  his 
breast. 

But  after  the  first  moments  of  rapture,  wherein  both  the 
past  and  the  future  were  forgotten  in  the  blissful  present,  this 


140  AGNES. 

interview  was  one  of  hurried,  tremulous  preparation,  of  sighs 
that  came  instead  of  smiles,  of  smiles  which  died  quivering 
on  pale  lips  that  strove  to  utter  words  of  cheer.  For  danger 
was  around  them  —  danger  which  each  might  have  faced  fear 
lessly  alone,  but  shrank  from  meeting  when  it  involved  the 
other. 

Refreshed  by  food,  and  a  plentiful  ablution,  which  his  week 
of  prison  life  had  made  imperative,  Percy  stood,  at  length,  in 
the  hall,  ready  to  depart.  He  wore  the  suit  of  coarse  cloth 
provided  by  Mr.  Chester,  whose  servant  he  was  to  represent 
until  he  was  out  of  the  power  of  his  enemies  ;  and  that  gen 
tleman  was  reiterating  his  instructions  respecting  what  should 
be  said  and  done,  provided  any  one  recognized  or  suspected 
him.  But  Percy  was  thinking  of  something  dearer  to  him 
than  his  own  safety,  and  still  he  lingered  in  the  shadow  where 
Evelyn  stood,  nerving  her  soul  for  the  farewell  she  would  not 
make  more  painful  by  the  tears  she  longed  to  shed. 

"  Come,  it  will  be  dawn  by  the  time  we  reach  the  river 
side,  where  I  hope  we  shall  find  the  boatman  waiting.  Are 
you  ready  now  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester. 

"  There  is  something  I  must  say  before  I  go,  and  yet  I 
hardly  know  how  to  say  it,"  replied  Percy.  "  Before  I  left 
the  prison,  I  thought  my  first  words  to  you,  Mr.  Chester,  would 
be  those  of  gratitude  for  this  great  kindness  to  me.  I  do  not 
speak  now  of  my  life,  which  you  have  probably  preserved ;  for 
my  life  was  as  nothing  to  me  when  I  thought  you  meant  to 
withhold  all  I  craved  to  make  existence  precious.  You  have 
now  permitted  me  to  entertain  hopes  so  bright,  that  I  am  half 


THE    SPY.  141 

afraid  to  go  away  without  hearing  them  repeated  from  your 
own  lips,  lest  a  happiness  so  great  should  in  some  way  be  lost 
to  me.  When  we  shall  meet  again,  God  only  knows  ;  but,  if 
that  time  ever  comes,  may  Evelyn  be  mine  —  my  wife  ?  " 

"  You  ask  much  from  me,  young  man,"  said  Mr.  Chester, 
with  strong  emotion,  "  and  I  cannot  answer  you  now.  That 
my  opposition  to  your  wishes  was  not  owing  to  want  of 
interest  in  you,  you  may  well  believe,  after  the  proof  thid 
night  has  given ;  but,  as  you  say,  God  only  knows  whep. 
we  shall  meet  again,  and  these  are  times  of  great  uncertainty 
and  peril.  Be  assured,  however,  that  I  have  no  power  to  do 
anything  to  make  Evelyn  unhappy.  With  the  promise  this 
implies  you  must  rest  content.  Let  us  hasten  now,  for  you 
have  lingered  too  long  already.  We  must  be  away  before  the 
neighbors  spy  our  proceedings,  and  my  little  girl  here  must 
remove  the  traces  of  our  night's  entertainment  before  the 
servants  arise." 

As  he  spoke  he  opened  the  door,  and,  after  one  more  fare 
well,  they  went  forth  together,  and  Evelyn  was  left  alone. 
0  !  at  that  moment,  how  she  longed  to  go  with  him  —  to  con 
tend  with  difficulty,  to  brave  danger,  to  struggle,  to  suffer,  if 
need  be  — Anything,  rather  than  the  inaction  to  which  her 
sex  doomed  her.  To  sit  still  and  wait,  to  watch  and  fear  in 
lonely  silence,  to  hush  the  throbs  of  her  anxious  heart  and 
dress  her  face  in  smiles,  to  hide  her  true  life,  and  fill  up  her 
time  with  the  idle  nothings  which  custom  demanded  of  women 
in  her  station,  seemed  a  martyrdom,  compared  to  which  the 
toil,  the  conflict,  the  excitement,  to  which  he  was  going,  was  a 


142  AGNES. 

pastime.  The  occupation  of  restoring  order  to  the  house 
hold  arrangements  was  over  long  before  her  father's  return 
informed  her  that  Percy  had  set  out  on  his  perilous  voyage 
across  the  river,  —  perilous,  because  of  the  floating  ice  which 
obstructed  navigation ;  and  till  then,  and  afterwards,  she  could 
only  retire  to  the  solitude  of  her  chamber  and  calm  herself 
to  wait  —  that  most  impotent  and  helpless  employment,  in 
which  woman  so  often  consumes  her  days. 

It  was  late  on  the  evening  after  Percy's  departure  before 
Juniper  could  obtain  an  opportunity  to  go  to  Stanley's  lodg 
ings,  in  order  to  report  to  him  the  result  of  his  surveillance. 
When  he  arrived  there  he  discovered,  much  to  his  chagrin, 
that  his  employer  was  absent,  and,  after  waiting  some  time, 
was  obliged  to  defer  seeing  him  till  the  next  day. 

Stanley,  who  breakfasted  at  a  late  hour  for  those  primitive 
times,  was  lounging  next  morning  over  his  coflee  and  toast, 
when  a  bustle  was  heard  in  the  entry,  and,  in  answer  to  some 
remonstrance  from  the  servant,  Juniper's  voice  exclaimed, 

"Don't  tell  me  nothin'  'bout  no  breakfas' !  Dis  chile  don't 
want  no  go-betweens !  My  bus'ness  bery  private  —  must  see 
massa  Stanley  hesef !  " 

Fearful  the  talkative  negro  might  reveal  more  than  he 
intended  should  be  made  public,  Stanley  rang  tlie  hand-bell 
which  was  used  to  summon  his  valet,  and  ordered  him  to 
show  the  person  in  waiting  up  stairs.  This  being  done,  and 
the  servant  having  retired,  he  beckoned  the  negro  to  follow 
him  into  an  inner  room,  and  carefully  locked  the  door  befora 
a  word  was  spoken. 


THE    SPY.  143 

"  Now,  Juniper,  what  is  it?  "  he  asked. 

"  Well,  massa,  dat  it  —  /  say.  It  am  bery  lucky  for  massa 
he  nominate  dis  chile  for  dat  yer  bus'ness.  Now,  some  nig 
gers,  'pears  like  dey  got  sense  too,  but  dey  neber  disflects  'pon 
dere  abocations ;  and  dese  ondisflectin'  niggers,  massa,  don't 
neber  seem  to  pergress,  somehow.  But,  den,  it's  edication — 
all  edioation,  massa.  Folks  what  lives  in  de  fus'  fam'lies,  dey 
hab  great  many  'vantages,  massa,  you  notice.  Now,  ef  dia 
chile  had  n't  had  no  circumspection  'bout  dis  yer  bus'ness  —  ! 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  come  to  the  point !  Tell  your  story. 
I  '11  listen  another  time  to  your  opinion  of  yourself !  "  inter 
rupted  Stanley. 

"Why,  massa,  I's  jes'  sayin',  ef  I  hadn't  had  circum 
spection  —  " 

"  Come  to  the  point,  you  fool !  "  repeated  his  hearer. 

"  Why,  massa,  I  is  coming'  —  I  jes'  sayin'  —  'cause  I  hab 
so  much  circumspection  —  " 

"  You  seem  to  have  not  a  little  circumlocution,  too !  "  said 
Stanley,  who  could  not  help  laughing,  in  spite  of  his  vexation. 

"  P'raps  <£0 !  "  answered  Juniper,  grinning  and  scraping 
his  feet  with  an  air  that  showed  he  felt  himself  highly  com 
plimented  to  be  the  subject  of  a  word  five  syllables  long, — 
"  p'raps  so  ;  massa  knows.  I  been  'spectin'  dis  long  time 
I  had  'siderable  circum  —  what  dat  massa  say  ?  "  he  added, 
delighted  with  this  addition  to  his  vocabulary. 

"  I  said  you  understood  blowing  your  own  trumpet ! " 
replied  Stanley,  impatiently.  "  Come,  I  Ve  had  enough  of 
this.  Tell  me,  in  few  words  —  what  did  you  see  ?  " 


144  AGNES. 

"  I  did  n't  see  nothin' !  "  said  Juniper,  sulkily. 

"  What  did  you  come  here  for,  then,  you  blunderhead !  " 
thundered  Stanley.  "Get  out  of  my  sight !  " 

"  0,  massa,  don't  be  so  'furiated  !  "  said  Juniper,  alarmed 
lest  he  might  lose  his  reward.  "  I 's  comin'  to  de  p'int  bery 
soon ;  but  massa  can't  hab  no  comprehension  'bout  it  'thout  I 
circulates  it  to  him." 

"  Go  on,  then,"  said  Stanley,  in  a  resigned  tone,  perceiving 
the  stream  of  words  would  flow,  and  waiting  to  see  them 
bring  the  facts  he  wished  to  obtain. 

"  Dat  it,  massa,  —  I  is  goin'  on.  De  true  fac'  is,  de  whole 
time  I 's  watchin'  I  did  n't  see  nothin' ;  so  when  night  come  I 
'marks  to  myself,  '  Nip,'  —  dey  calls  me  Nip  for  shortness ; 
—  '  you  better  go  sleep,  so  he  be  sure  to  keep  both  eyes  open 
to-morrow ; '  'cause,  ye  see,  massa,  looking  'bout  'round  de 
corner  all  day  am  pertic'lar  circumspectious  work.  So  I  goes 
up  stair,  and  I  see  ole  massa  comin'  down,  and  says  he, 
'  What !  do  you  go  to  bed  so  early,  boy  ?  You  has  a  talent 
for  sleeping  ! '  '  Yes,  massa,'  said  I,  '  yes,  massa,  dis  chile 
hab  talent  for  mos'  eberyting,  on'y  massa  don't^know  'bout 
it  allers.'  I  say  dis  'cause  I  neber  did  t'ink  ole  massa  'pre- 
ciated  me." 

"  Proceed  !  "  said  Stanley,  as  the  negro  paused. 

"Yes,  massa  —  dat's  it  —  I  is  percedin'.  So  I  say, 
1  Massa  don't  know  about  it  allers,'  and  he  laugh  and  go 
down,  and  I  goes  up.  Den  I  disflects  what  for  old  massa  up 
here  in  de  attic  where  de  niggers  sleeps.  I  neber  know  'bout 
him  bein'  dere  'fore.  But,  as  I  'a  sayin',  I  has  great  deal 


THE    SPY.  145 

circumspection,  and  I  disflects  'pon  it  till  I  gets  sleepy. 
Somehow,  massa,  I 's  allers  noticed  'bout  dat,  dat  'flectin' 
has  de  effect  ob  gettin'  dis  chile  to  sleep.  Well,  I  done  slept 
a  good  while,  but  't  last  I  woke  up.  De  room  was  mighty 
dark,  so  I  knows  it  was  n't  mornin',  but  I  hears  a  little  noise. 
A.t  fus',  massa,  I 's  little  obfusticated  for  fear  it 's  ghosts ;  but 
I  gets  up  and  makes  up  de  bad  face,  so  ef  de  ghost  see  me 
dey  t'ink  I 's  one  of  dem,  and  I  creeps  down  de  garret  stair, 
to  find  out  a  discivery  where  de  noise  was.  So  't  last  I  feels 
de  door,  and  I  finds  it  shet,  and  when  I  try  de  latch  I  finds  it 
locked.  '  0,  ho ! '  says  I, '  ole  massa,  dat  it,  is  it  ?  Dat  what 
you  up  here  for  ?  —  put  lock  on  de  door ! '  Den  you  see, 
massa,  dis  chile  smell  de  rat." 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  said  Stanley,  impatiently,  "  go  on." 

"  Yes,  massa,  dat  it  —  I  is  goin'  on.  I  find  de  door  lock, 
and  I  say,  '  Nip,  my  boy,  't  an't  no  use  stayin'  here,  for  ef 
de  ghosts  don't  catch  you,  de  rheumatiz  will ; '  and  so  I  creeps 
back  to  bed,  and  I  sleeps  dere  pertic'lar  quiet  till  mornin'." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  said  Stanley,  in  a  tone  of  disappointment, 
as  the  negro  paused. 

"  No,  massa,  dat  it  —  dat  an't  all.  When  de  risin'  bell 
ring  we  gets  up,  and  de  fus'  ting,  when  Sally  go  into  de  hall, 
she  observes  de  big  clock,  and  she  'sclaim  out,  '  Bress  my 
star  !  what  ole  massa  'bout  let  nigger  sleep  so  for ! '  And 
sure  'naff  we  was  an  hour  later  'n  common.  So  we  cir- 
culateg  'round  —  Sally  and  me  —  to  make  de  fire  and  get 
breakfas'  —  pertic'larly,  Sally  —  an  by-'m-by  I  hears  her 
'sclaim  out,  '  Nip,  what  for  you  did  n't  fill  de  wood-box  las' 
13 


146  AGNES. 

night ? '  'I  did  ! '  says  I.  '  You  did u't,'  says  she,  ' fur 
dere  an't  one  solirtary  stick  here.'  An',  sure  'nuff,  dere 
wan't.  Sally  was  'bout  right,  massa,  but  I  fill  de  wood- 
box,  for  all  dat.  Well,  we  make  de  fire,  an'  she  go  get 
breakfas',  and  I  hears  her  'sclaim  out  agin,  '  Nip,  you  brack 
fool,  what  fur  you  steal  all  dat  meat  I  sot  away  fur  break- 
fus'  ?  '  'Cause,  yer  see,  massa  Stanley,  I  neber  could  'suade 
Sally  she  ought  to  speak  'spectful  to  me  when  she  's  mad. 
Somehow,  massa,  I 's  noticed  folks  most  commonly  is  apt  to 
speak  on'spectful  when  dey  's  mad." 

"  Gro  on  with  your  story,"  said  his  auditor ;  "  don't  stop  to 
moralize !  " 

"  Yes,  massa,  dat  it  —  I  an't  stoppin'.  She  say  dat,  an'  I 
say,  '  How  could  I,  Sally,  when  I  see  you  lock  de  door  and 
shet  up  de  closet  wid  your  own  idencatle  hands,  last  night,  jest 
'fore  I  went  up  star'  ? '  '  So  I  did,'  says  she,  '  an'  dere  is  sure 
'nuff  witches  in  dis  house.'  So  jes'  den  old  massa  he  come 
down,  and  she  tell  him,  and  he  laugh  and  say  maybe  de  rats 
get  it ;  an'  den  I  say,  'fore  I  t'ink,  '  Yes,  massa  Chester,  I  smell 
de  rat  las'  night.'  Den  he  stop,  and  look  at  me  bery  'quisitive 
a  minute,  and  say,  '  What  you  mean  ? '  An'  I  say  I  don't 
mean  nothin',  an'  he  laugh  an'  go  on.  Dat  all  about  it, 
massa,  on'y  ole  massa  'pears  like  he  'spected  me  all  day,  an' 
kep'  me  workin'  'bout  in  a  way  bery  tryin'  to  dis  chile's  feel- 
in's,  so  I  neber  find  no  chance  to  get  here  —  " 

"  And  your  master  —  how  did  he  look  ?  —  how  did  he  seem 
to-day?  "  said  Stanley,  eagerly.  "  Did  he  appear  as  usual  ?  " 

"  He  'peared  more  'n  usual !  "  replied  Juniper.      "  Kep' 


THE    SPY.  147 

comin'  to  see  ef  I  was  workin',  and  kind  o'  maundered  'round 
the  house,  like  he  felt  worried." 

"  Strange  !  "  ejaculated  Stanley,  thoughtfully. 

"Yes,  massa,  dat  it  —  it  strange.  I 's  been  disflectin' 
on  it  all  day.  Ef  dis  chile  had  n't  had  so  much  circum 
spection,  dere  would  n't  hab  been  any  'scoveries  made  'bout 
it!" 

"I  don't  see  as  you  have  discovered  much,"  said  Stanley; 
"  but,  since  you  seem  to  have  done  your  best,  I  will  pay  you, 
as  I  promised.  You  are  sure,  then,  that  the  man  I  spoke  of 
did  not  come  to  your  house? " 

"  Dono  'bout  dat,  massa.  Dis  chile  neber  see  nobody ;  but, 
den,  who  eat  up  de  meat  and  who  burnt  up  all  de  wood  las' 
night,  massa  ?  Dat  it !  " 

"  True,"  replied  Stanley.  "  There  can  be  little  doubt  that 
some  one  was  there  last  night ;  but  if  so,  the  person  must 
now  be  out  of  my  reach.  You  can  watch,  however,  and  if 
you  see  anything  suspicious,  come  and  tell  me.  I  will  pay 
you  well ;  only  be  cautious." 

"  Well,  massa,  dat  it.  I 's  been  'flectin'  about  dat.  'Pears 
like  massa  ought  to  tell  dis  chile  sump'en  'bout  what  for  he 
want  know  'bout  dis  yer." 

"  It 's  none  of  your  business,  boy,"  said  Stanley,  with  a 
frown,  "  and,  upon  second  thought,  I  don't  care  to  employ  you 
further.  It 's  very  little  consequence  to  me  who  this  person 
is,  so  you  need  n't  trouble  yourself  about  it  any  more.  Here 
is  your  pay,"  he  added,  giving  him  a  guinea,  "  and  hark, 
now  !  if  I  ever  hear  of  your  lisping  a  word  of  this  conversa- 


148  AGNES. 

tion  to  any  one,  I  '11  have  the  soldiers  catch  you  and  flog  you 
within  an  inch  of  your  life  !  " 

So  saying,  he  held  open  a  door  opposite  the  one  by  which 
they  had  entered  the  room,  and  Juniper,  shrinking  from  this 
threat  as  if  he  already  felt  the  lash,  darted  down  a  private 
stairway  to  the  street. 

Stanley  had  hardly  regained  his  seat  at  the  breakfast- 
table  before  the  door  opened  to  admit  one  of  his  friends,  Col. 
Harcourt,  who,  gayly  bidding  him  good-morning,  declared  it 
was  the  luckiest  thing  in  the  world  to  find  him  breakfasting, 
for  a  long  walk  had  given  him  a  ravenous  appetite ;  and, 
ordering  fresh  toast  and  coffee,  Stanley  made  room  for  him  at 
the  little  round  table.  They  chatted  together  for  some  time, 
giving  each  other  the  current  news  respecting  business  and 
pleasure,  until  a  pause  occurred  in  the  conversation,  and 
Stanley  said, 

"  You  have  not  yet  told  me  why  you  are  abroad  so  early 
this  morning,  and  where  you  have  been  walking  so  far." 

"  I  was  aroused  early,"  replied  Col.  Harcourt,  "  by  a  cock- 
and-bull  story  my  servant  brought  me  from  the  street,  to  the 
effect  that  the  prisoners  had  broken  en  masse  from  the  Sugar- 
House  jail,  killed  the  jailers,  and  massacred  the  guards.  So 
I  jumped  out  of  bed  to  find  out  the  truth ! " 

"  What  was  the  truth  ?  "  said  his  friend.  "  It  is  strange 
I  had  n't  sooner  heard  this  wonderful  story." 

"  Strange,  indeed,"  replied  Harcourt,  "  especially  as  another 
version  of  the  affair  had  a  tinge  of  the  supernatural.  Some 
affirm  that  an  angel  appeared  at  night,  wrapped  in  a  sheet 


THE    SPY.  149 

of  fire,  and  carried  the  prisoner  off  through  the  roof  of 
the  building.  The  majority  incline  to  the  latter  opinion,  as 
demanding  the  greatest  stretch  of  credulity,  and  being  sus 
tained  by  want  of  evidence  in  any  other  direction." 

"What  is  the  foundation  of  all  this? "asked  Stanley, 
laughing.  "  Has  there  been  an  escape  ?  " 

"  Yes,  one  man  has  managed  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  the 
guard,  though  how  it  was  done  remains  a  mystery,"  said  his 
friend,  carelessly. 

"  The  walls  are  high,  and  must  now  be  slippery  with  frost ; 
and  it  would  be  hard  work  to  scale  them,  even  if  he  had  help 
in  getting  outside  the  jail-doors,"  said  Stanley.  "  It  is 
hardly  possible  the  guard  could  have  been  bribed,  if  the  jailers 
could  be." 

"  Cunningham  takes  care  there  is  n't  much  chance  of  tempt 
ation  left  in  that  direction,"  replied  Harcourt ;  "  and  it 
appears,  upon  examination,  that  the  jailer  and  his  attendants 
are  a  party  entirely  separate  from  the  guard ;  so  there  could 
hardly  have  been  collusion  between  them,  even  supposing  our 
grim  Hessians  susceptible  of  '  the  quality  of  mercy.' " 

"  It  would  have  to  beat  upon  their  heads  like  hailstones, 
instead  of  dropping  '  like  the  gentle  dew  from  heaven,'  as 
Shakspeare  declares  it  was  wont  to  do  in  old  times,"  said 
Stanley.  "  Then  there  was  an  examination  into  the  affair?  " 

"  Yes.     Cunningham  went  into  it  very  fiercely  last  night 

when  it  was  discovered,  but  nothing  could  be  proved.     The 

head  jailer  is  a  man  of  his  own  choosing,  and  none  would 

suspect  him  of  undue  compassion  after  one"  glance  at  his  face. 

13* 


150  AGNES. 

He  declares  that  he  opened  the  door  at  the  usual  hour,  to  let 
out  one  attendant  and  let  the  other  in ;  and  these  two  boys 
confirm  the  testimony.  As  the  policy  now  is  to  conciliate  the 
citizens,  it  was  n't  thought  best  to  stir  ill-blood  by  making  an 
example  of  either  of  the  three.  One  of  them  told,  however, 
that,  upon  opening  the  cell  where  Major  Grey  had  been  con 
fined,  some  of  his  companions  made  a  great  ado  about  having 
seen  the  door  open  in  the  night,  and  some  one  take  the  man 
out.  But  the  others  denied  it,  and  so  the  mystery  remains 
unsolved." 

"  What  did  you  say  was  the  name  of  the  man  who 
escaped?"  asked  Stanley,  starting,  and  coloring  violently. 

"Grey  —  Major  Grey.  One  of  the  staff  of  Gen.  Lee, 
whom  our  gallant  dragoons  brought  off  so  adroitly,  the  other 
day,  under  the  direction  of  your  humble  servant." 

Stanley  did  not  notice  the  bow  and  the  smile  accompanying 
this  remark.  Anger  and  surprise  kept  him  silent,  and  it 
required  all  his  self-possession  to  conceal  his  emotion  from  his 
friend.  At  length  he  said, 

"Why  don't  you  pursue  him?  Cunningham  won't,  surely, 
let  him  slip  through  his  fingers  in  this  way !  "  In  spite  of  his 
care,  his  tones  evinced  his  interest  in  the  question,  and  Col. 
Harcourt  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  Pooh !  "  said  he,  "  let  the  poor  devil  run  !  There  are 
plenty  left,  and  what  signifies  one  more  or  less?  Pursuit 
would  be  hopeless  now,  even  if  it  were  worth  while  to  attempt 
it,  for  he  had  twenty-four  hours'  start  before  the  escape  was 
discovered." 


THE     SPY.  151 

"  He  must  have  friends  in  the  city,  of  course,"  said  Stanley. 
"  Is  it  suspected  who  they  are  ?  " 

"  They  've  taken  good  care  to  keep  out  of  the  way,"  an 
swered  Harcourt.  "  But  Mr.  Chester  testified  to  the  good 
character  of  one  of  the  jailers,  a  boy  who  used  to  be  in  his 
service ;  so  suspicion  falls  mainly  upon  the  other  assistant, 
a  low  fellow,  who  they  learn  was  once  in  the  rebel  army. 
But  it  is  a  matter  of  no  consequence,  and,  for  the  sake  of 
impartiality,  both  have  been  turned  out  of  office." 

"  Mr.  Chester  testified,  did  he?  "  exclaimed  Stanley,  with  a 
sardonic  laugh.  "  By  the  Lord,  his  testimony  was  worth 
considerable !  " 

"I  suppose  so;  it  seemed  satisfactory.  But  why  do  you 
take  such  an  interest  in  this  trifling  affair  ?  You  look  fairly 
bloodthirsty.  What  is  it  to  you  ?  " 

The  question  recalled  Stanley's  self-possession,  and,  assum 
ing  an  air  of  indifference,  he  answered, 

"  You  know  I  am  interested  in  the  Chesters.  They  are 
my  very  particular  friends." 

" True  enough,"  said  Harcourt;  "and  that  reminds  me  to 
inquire  how  matters  are  progressing  between  yourself  and 
your  belle  fiancee  ;  for  I  have  heard  a  rumor  that  she  ignores 
your  engagement,  and  I  fancied  the  queenly  Evelyn  treated 
you  coolly  when  I  last  saw  you  together  at  Madam  Kushton's 
soiree." 

"  Ah,  I  remember  that  evening,"  replied  Stanley,  coloring 
a  little.  "  The  fair  Evelyn  was  a  little  out  of  spirits  that 
4ay.  But  you  know  the  old  adage  respecting  lovers'  quarrels." 


152  AGNES. 

"They  are  said  to  lead  to  an  increase  of  the  tender  pas 
sion,  though  I  never  could  exactly  see  how,"  rejoined  Har- 
court,  gayly.  "  But  success  to  your  suit !  and  I  think  you 
are  the  luckiest  fellow  in  the  king's  dominions,  to  gain  a 
beauty  and  a  fortune  simply  by  crossing  the  sea  for  it.  You 
must  have  been  born  with  a  gold  spoon  in  your  mouth." 

"  Faith,"  said  Stanley,  "  it  is  no  light  penalty  to  pay,  danc 
ing  attendance  on  a  wilful  young  lady  through  a  winter  in 
this  barbarous  country." 

"  Why  not  be  married  at  once,  then?  "  asked  Harcourt  as 
he  rose  to  go.  "'  Veni,  vidi,  vici!'  that's  the  motto  for  a 
hero  of  your  stamp.  Besides,  the  war  is  about  over,  for  we 
are  driving  that  fellow  Washington  into  a  corner ;  and  I 
hear  he  can  hardly  keep  his  ragamuffins  together  long  enough 
to  make  a  decent  retreat,  —  fighting  is  out  of  the  question. 
So,  it  would  really  be  a  charity  to  get  up  some  wedding  fes 
tivities  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  fellows  who  are  dying  of 
ennui  all  around  you." 

"Nous  verrons!"  replied  Stanley,  smiling,  as  Col.  Har 
court  left  the  room.  But  the  moment  the  door  was  shut,  his 
face  became  dark  and  stern  with  the  passions  he  had  sup 
pressed  so  long.  He  could  have  torn  his  hair  and  gnashed 
his  teeth  with  the  fury  that  possessed  him. 

To  have  it  bandied  from  mouth  to  mouth  among  his  gay 
companions  that  he  was  a  rejected  suitor,  —  refused  by  the 
simple  American  girl  he  had  avowedly  crossed  the  ocean 
to  claim  as  his  bride !  To  be  unable,  with  all  the  magnifi 
cence  his  alliance  would  procure  her,  to  win  her  from  his 


THE    SPY.  153 

secret  rival !  The  thought  was  intolerable.  And,  to  reflect 
that  while  he  had  been  hesitating  to  use  his  power,  while  he 
had  listened  to  those  kindlier  feelings  that  made  him  reluc 
tant  to  force  himself  upon  the  woman  whose  love  he  had 
sought,  she  had  been  successfully  planning  the  escape  of  his 
hated  competitor !  If  he  had  known  of  Percy  Grey's  capture, 
how  strict  should  have  been  the  vigilance,  how  hopeless  the 
attempt  to  escape ;  nay,  how  speedily  could  he  have  rid  him 
self  forever  of  this  obstacle  in  his  path !  His  brows  contracted 
with  a  deeper  frown  as  he  remembered  the  gallows  standing 
behind  the  Provost  jail,  and  the  midnight  executions,  in  which 
so  many  victims  of  war  from  the  crowded  prisons  had  per 
ished  without  any  previous  trial  —  perished  unquestioned  and 
unknown. 

Then  his  thoughts  reverted  to  Evelyn.  She  had  seen  her 
lover,  and  who  could  tell  what  vows  had  been  exchanged, 
what  plans  formed,  which  might  entirely  defeat  his  own 
wishes,  and  leave  him,  baffled  and  scorned,  without  even  the 
power  of  revenge  ? 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  as  the  idea  suggested  itself;  for,  with 
Mr.  Chester's  reputation  for  loyalty,  he  could  at  any  time 
obtain  permission  to  leave  the  city  with  his  daughter;  and,  if 
they  felt  themselves  in  danger,  would  they  not  speedily  use 
this  privilege  to  place  themselves  beyond  reach  of  British 
power  ?  No  man  is  wholly  vile,  and  Stanley  had  endured 
many  a  struggle  between  his  good  and  evil  natures  before  he 
could  entirely  silence  the  voice  of  honor  and  conscience,  and 
bring  himself  to  use  the  knowledge  which  circumstances  had 


154  AGNES. 

placed  in  his  hands.  But  from  this  moment  his  resolution 
was  taken,  and  the  mercenary  motives  which  had  most  power 
fully  inclined  him  to  this  act  when  first  thought  of  were  now 
almost  wholly  forgotten  in  the  violent  passions  that  convulsed 
his  soul. 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE    STRUGGLE. 

ALTHOUGH  fully  determined  to  carry  forward  his  own  pur 
poses,  without  regarding  what  it  might  cost  others,  Stanley 
preferred  to  wait  until  evening  before  communicating  them  to 
Mr.  Chester. 

That  evening  Evelyn  shone  as  a  "  bright  particular  star  " 
at  one  of  the  weekly  soirees  given  by  the  elite  of  the  city. 
Her  feelings  were  little  in  consonance  with  such  scenes,  but  it 
was  necessary,  in  order  to  avoid  remark,  that  she  should  not 
withdraw  from  the  society  in  which  her  high  connections,  her 
beauty  and  accomplishments,  made  her  a  general  favorite. 
It  was  late  when  she  returned  home,  and,  as  was  her  custom, 
she  went  directly  to  her  father's  library,  to  bid  him  good 
night  before  retiring  to  rest ;  but,  to  her  great  surprise,  she 
found  the  door  locked,  and  from  within  came  a  low  murmur 
of  voices  in  earnest  conversation. 

Curious  and  somewhat  alarmed  at  this  unusual  occurrence, 
she  returned  to  the  parlor,  where  Juniper  was  dozing  before 
the  fire  he  had  kept  burning  till  her  arrival ;  and,  dismissing 
him  to  his  bed,  she  reclined  on  one  of  the  cushioned  settees, 


156  AGNES. 

located  in  the  deep  recesses  by  the  chimney,  and  abandoned 
herself  to  thought,  as  she  waited  the  departure  of  this  late 
visitor.  A  little  while  her  mind  lingered  on  the  present,  and 
then  slowly  her  eyelids  drooped,  and  the  memories  hidden  in 
her  heart  rose  up  before  her.  An  expression  of  calm  and 
intense  happiness  settled  on  her  features,  and,  though  she 
seemed  to  sleep,  her  soul  had  wandered  into  a  region  more 
distinct  and  beautiful  than  the  shadowy  land  of  dreams. 

At  length  the  door  leading  into  the  library  opened,  and  the 
slow,  half-hesitating  step  of  Stanley  made  no  noise  on  the  thick 
carpet  covering  the  floor.  He  approached  her,  and  paused  a 
moment,  half  in  regret  and  half  in  triumph,  as  he  gazed  on 
her  exceeding  beauty.  A  robe  of  dark  satin  brocade  con 
trasted  well  with  her  delicate  complexion,  scarcely  less  purely 
white  than  the  pearls  which  rose  and  fell  with  the  heaving  of 
her  bosom,  and  encircled  the  arms  clasped  above  it.  Her 
hair  was  always  arranged  in  a  simple  and  classic  mode,  un 
touched  by  powder  or  pomatum,  to  suit  her  father's  taste; 
and  now  her  head,  usually  so  stately  in  its  gracefulness,  was 
thrown  back  in  the  abandon  of  repose,  revealing  the  perfect 
contour  of  her  features,  and  her  broad,  noble  brow. 

Before  he  found  words  to  address  her,  she  became  conscious 
of  his  presence,  and,  rising  hastily,  regarded  him  with  wonder 
and  a  slight  confusion.  For  a  short  time  neither  spoke ;  but 
Evelyn  was  first  to  recover  herself,  and  then  asked,  coldly,  to 
what  she  owed  the  honor  of  this  late  visit. 

"I  fear  it  is  an  undesired  honor,"  said  Stanley,  stung  by 
the  frigid  politeness  of  her  tones  ;  "  but  pray  be  seated,  Miss 


THE     STRUGGLE.  157 

Chester,  for  I  have  something  of  importance  to  say  .to  you, 
and,  late  as  is  the  hour,  it  must  be  said  to-night." 

His  voice  was  low,  almost  solemn,  and  she  saw  it  was 
only  by  a  great  effort  he  appeared  calm.  There  was  some 
thing  in  his  manner  that  struck  her  with  a  sudden  terror. 
The  rich  blood  which  had  mantled  her  cheek  receded,  and  she 
sank  trembling  into  a  chair  beside  her.  When  Stanley  spoke 
again,  his  words  came  rapidly,  like  those  of  a  man  who  is 
forcing  himself  to  perform  a  disagreeable  or  dreaded  act. 

"  I  have  been  talking  with  your  father,  and,  I  regret  to  say, 
he  has  become  implicated  in  a  late  occurrence,  the  conse 
quences  of  which  will  be  unpleasant,  if  my  duty  to  Gen. 
Howe  compels  me  to  reveal  the  facts  I  have  discovered." 

He  paused,  but  Evelyn  could  ask  no  questions.  Her  hands 
were  clasped  unconsciously,  and  her  eyes  fixed  on  him  with  a 
look  of  frozen  and  helpless  terror.  She  understood  that 
Percy's  escape  was  known,  and  expected  to  hear  he  had  been 
recaptured.  Stanley  continued, 

"  You  know,  I  perceive,  to  what  I  refer.  You  heard  of 
the  escape  of  an  American  prisoner  named  Grey " 

"  Where  is  he  ?  "  Evelyn  gasped. 

"  He  ?  —  He  made  good  his  escape.  It  is  not  of  him  I 
came  to  speak,"  answered  her  companion. 

"  Thank  God !  "  burst  from  Evelyn's  lips,  and,  hiding  her 
face  in  her  hands,  she  wept  violently. 

Her  tears  relieved  the  feelings  so  suddenly  excited,  and, 
blushing  that  she  should  have  thought  only  of  Percy  when 
her  father  M  as  in  danger,  she  strove  to  regain  her  composure. 
14 


AGNES. 

Now  that  the  anxiety  which  had  paralyzed  her  faculties  was 
past,  she  knew  instinctively  what  Col.  Stanley  wished  to  ask 
as  the  price  of  his  silence  as  to  the  knowledge  he  had  in  some 
unaccountable  manner  acquired.  As  she  sat  with  her  face 
still  hidden,  thinking  how  she  should  answer  him,  he  advanced 
a  step  nearer,  and  said,  sternly, 

"  Have  you,  then,  no  care  for  your  father  ?  Do  you  not 
know  the  danger  in  which  this  escape  involves  him  ?  " 

"  What  proof  is  there  that  my  father  knew  aught  of  it? 
A  man  in  his  position  is  not  to  be  accused  upon  .suspicion, 
merely,"  she  answered,  with  sudden  defiance. 

"  There  is  proof —  ample  proof,"  said  he.  "  Nay,  your 
father  has  acknowledged  the  act." 

"  If  that  be,"  she  replied,  in  surprise,  "  he  must  have 
known  there  was  nothing  in  the  act  which  any  honorable 
mind  will  condemn.  Major  Grey  was  —  " 

"  A  Yankee  rebel !  "  sneered  Stanley,  as  she  hesitated. 

"  Be  it  so !  "  she  continued,  in  a  calm,  firm  voice,  and  her 
eyes  did  not  quail  beneath  the  gaze  they  encountered.  "  Be 
it  so ;  he  was,  nevertheless,  my  father's  friend,  and  the 
affianced  husband  of  my  father's  child." 

Stanley  replied,  in  an  excited  tone  :  "  You  strangely  mis 
judge  the  men  who  will  conduct  this  trial,  and  are  entirely 
ignorant  of  the  rules'  of  war,  if  you  imagine  that  for  either 
of  these  reasons  Mr.  Chester  will  go  unharmed.  Depend 
upon  it,  if  I  communicate  the  facts,  which  I  alone  know,  he 
must  suffer  condign  punishment." 

"  And  will  you  do  so?"  she  asked,  pleadingly. 


THE     STRUGGLE.  159 

"  That  remains  with,  you,"  replied  he.  "  If  you  were  my 
wife  —  " 

"  Is  it  possible,"  said  Evelyn,  starting  from  her  seat  in 
indignation,  "  is  it  possible  that  you,  who  are  a  soldier,'  and 
should  therefore  be  honorable,  can  wish  to  claim  an  unwilling 
bride  —  to  purchase  the  hand  you  could  not  win?  Can  it 
be  from  you  I  am  about  to  receive  a  proposition  so  degrading 
to  us  both  ?  " 

Stanley's  eyes  drooped  beneath  the  scornful  gaze  fixed  upou 
him.  "  Hear  me,"  he  said,  gently,  "  and  be  not  too  severe  if 
I  seem  unkind.  I  have  offered  you  name,  rank,  and  fortune, 
a  station  in  life  the  proudest  might  not  disdain  to  hold,  and 
you  have  refused  them  all.  I  offer  them  again,  simply 
adding  that  by  being  my  wife  you  will  make  it  my  first  duty 
to  shield  your  name  and  honor ;  and,  therefore,  the  duty  now 
devolving  upon  me  as  a  soldier  to  deliver  up  the  enemies  of 
my  king  will  be  lost  in  the  higher  claim  which  Mr.  Chester 
will  have  upon  me,  as  your  father.  You  rejected  my  love, 
but  will  not  your  filial  affection  lead  you  to  consider  the  sub 
ject  anew  in  this  aspect  ?  " 

"  Why  should  you  regard  my  father  as  an  enemy  of  the 
crown  because  he  helped  save  the  life  of  a  fellow-creature  ?  " 
answered  she,  after  a  momentary  silence.  "  Surely  there 
have  been  victims  enough  in  this  dreadful  war !  Do  not 
blind  your  better  reason  by  such  sophistry.  At  least,  allow 
me  to  think  of  this  at  leisure." 

"  It  cannot  be,"  replied  Stanley,  in  a  low  tone.  "  It  were 
only  cruelty  to  yourself  and  me  to  protract  this  struggle. 


160  AGNES. 

I  shall  not  leave  the  house  until  I  have  your  promise  to 
become  my  wife." 

Evelyn's  spirit  rose  against  such  coercion.  "  Remain  here, 
then,  alone,"  she  said,  proudly.  "  I  do  not  fear  your  threat. 
For  your  own  sake,  you  dare  not  be  so  dishonorable.  If  this 
thing  were  known,  it  would  brand  you  with  such  infamy  you 
would  shrink  from  the  eyes  of  your  fellow-men.  That  you 
could  plan  a  scheme  so  vile,  is  enough !  I  would  sooner  lie 
down  in  my  grave  than  marry  you  !  " 

She  was  turning  away  with  a  disdainful  gesture,  when  he 
seized  her  hand  and  forcibly  detained  her. 

"  Stay,  proud  girl,  and  hear  me !  "  he  cried,  "  Your 
father's  life  and  honor  are  in  my  hands.  I  can  at  any 
moment  ruin  and  dishonor  him  forever  —  not  for  this  alone 
—  this  is  a  trifle  in  comparison.  Your  father  is  a  traitor 
and  a  spy !  " 

His  whole  frame  shook  with  passion,  and  his  eyes  seemed 
to  flash  fire,  while  he  grasped  her  wrists  with  a  force  really 
painful ;  but  she  quailed  not  at  his  violence. 

"This  is  simply  impossible,"  she  replied,  with  a  calm 
smile  of  incredulity.  "  Either  you  are  mistaken,  or  you  are 
deceiving  me.  He  may  have  risked  his  own  safety  to  save 
the  life  of  a  friend ;  though,  since  he  has  acknowledged  the 
deed  to  you,  I  believe  he  cannot  anticipate  much  danger  from 
having  it  known.  But  he  could  never  betray  confidence.  He 
could  never  be  a  spy  !  " 

"  I  have  told  you  the  truth,"  Stanley  repeated.  "  Acci 
dent  put  me  in  possession  of  some  papers,  taken  from  the 


THE     STRUGGLE.  161 

person  of  a  pedler  who  was  killed  in  a  drunken  brawl.  They 
revealed  to  me  this  secret.  Your  own  letter  to  Mr.  Grey 
was  among  them." 

"  And  you  read  it !  "  she  exclaimed,  her  beautiful  lip  curl 
ing  with  contempt. 

"  I  did,"  he  replied,  boldly.  "  It  was  my  duty  to  use  all 
means  to  discover  the  enemies  of  my  king.  A  similar  train 
of  circumstances  placed  in  my  hands  the  proof  that  Mr. 
Chester  had  assisted  Grey  to  escape.  Were  these  facts 
known,  nothing  could  save  him  from  the  hangman's  hands. 
Pardon  me,"  he  added,  as  she  uttered  a  cry  of  horror,  "  but 
you  force  me  to  speak  plainly.  You  have  scorned  my  love 
and  doubted  my  word — now  the  power  is  in  my  hands. 
Consider  well  how  you  decide,  for  I  declare  to  you  that  upon 
your  decision  depends  not  only  your  father's  life,  but  the  hon 
orable  name  he  values  still  more.  I  have  talked  with  him, 
and  he  has  sent  me  to  you.  I  have  told  you  his  crime,  but  I 
have  not  painted  as  I  might  the  ignominy  and  terror  of  the 
death  which  is  its  punishment." 

Evelyn  released  her  hands  from  his  grasp,  and,  clasping 
them  together,  sank  at  his  feet. 

"  0,  then,"  she  cried,  "  be  generous  —  be  merciful !  This 
fatal  secret  is  known  to  you  alone  —  let  it  be  buried  in  your 
breast ;  save  my  father  from  this  awful  doom,  and  my  prayers 
shall  call  down  blessings  upon  every  moment  of  your  after  life 
—  my  gratitude  shall  kindle  for  you  a  warm  and  pure  affection 
in  my  soul !  Will  you  not  be  richly  rewarded  in  the  con 
sciousness  of  doing  good,  so  dear  to  every  noble  heart  ?  Will 
14* 


162  AGNES. 

you  not  be  happier  than  if  wedded  to  a  cold,  unloving  wife  ? 
Pity  me,  I  implore  you !  Take  back  those  cruel  words ! 
Tell  me  you  will  save  us  from  this  misery,  and  no  language 
can  express  what  I  shall  feel  for  you  —  my  benefactor  —  my 
preserver ! " 

Stern  and  unmoved,  Stanley  heard  this  passionate  appeal. 
There  was  even  an  expression  of  malignant  triumph  in  his 
face  as  he  looked  down  on  the  pallid,  quivering  features 
raised  to  him  in  supplication.  He  replied, 

"  Evelyn  Chester,  I  have  known  these  things  ever  since  the 
evening,  a  fortnight  since,. when  in  this  very  room  you  rejected 
my  hand  with  pride,  almost  with  insult.  I  have  thought  of 
this  subject  in  all  its  bearings.  I  have  anticipated  all  the 
opposition  I  should  meet  with,  all  the  entreaties  I  should  hear, 
and  I  have  decided  to  claim  you  as  my  wife.  Do  you  think 
now  I  shall  falter,  and  turn  from  my  purpose  ?  That  would 
be  indeed  a  weakness  and  a  double  disgrace.  No  words  of 
yours  can  move  me.  My  pride,  my  self-respect,  all  my  aims 
and  ambitions  for  the  future,  alike  forbid  it.  I  await  your 
decision." 

Evelyn  did  not  cry  out  or  faint,  though  the  very  springs  of 
life  seemed  failing  her  as  she  heard  these  words,  and,  unable 
to  support  her  trembling  frame,  she  sank  upon  the  carpet,  and 
buried  her  face  in  the  cushions  of  the  seat  beside  her.  She 
did  not  weep  —  she  could  hardly  think.  She  only  knew  she 
must  become  the  wife  of  that  bold,  bad  man,  or  give  her 
father  to  His  vengeance ;  and  every  fibre  of  her  body  seemed  to 
shudder  and  shrink  from  eithei  alternative.  For  a  long  time 


THE    STRUGGLE.  163 

there  was  silence,  and  Stanley  stood  uneasily  watching  that 
intense  mental  struggle,  half  fearing  what  its  issue  might  be. 

When  she  raised  her  face  again,  it  was  frightful  to  see  its 
look  of  fixed  despair, —  the  rigid  contraction  of  its  muscles,  as 
if  in  deadly  pain.  She  pressed  her  hands  to  her  brow,  and 
tottered  as  she  arose  to  her  feet ;  but  when  her  companion 
attempted  to  assist  her,  she  cried,  huskily,  as  she  recoiled 
from  him, 

"  Don't  touch  me  !  Stay  here  —  I  will  return,  but  I  must 
speak  first  with  my  father  !  " 

She  paused  once  or  twice,  and  her  limbs  seemed  failing  her, 
as  she  proceeded  to  the  library ;  but  when  she  reached  the 
door  the  sight  which  met  her  eyes  recalled  to  her  the  myste 
rious  calmness  and  strength  wherewith  the  heart  of  woman  is 
girded  by  the  necessity  of  acting  as  comforter  and  supporter 
to  one  beloved. 

Mr.  Chester  was  sitting  by  the  table  as  Stanley  had  left 
him,  his  face  bowed  down  to  his  knees  and  covered  by  his 
hands,  while  tears  fell  slowly  between  the  thin  fingers.  He 
looked  up  as  the  door  opened,  but  dropped  his  face  again 
instantly,  with  a  groan,  followed  by  a  burst  of  convulsive 
sobs  that  seemed  to  rend  his  heart.  It  is  terrible  to  see  an 
old  man  weep. 

"  Father,"  said  the  low,  sweet  voice  of  his  child,  "  dear 
father,  will  you  not  speak  to  me  ?  " 

He  made  no  answer,  but,  without  changing  his  position, 
threw  one  arm  around  her  neck  and  drew  her  towards  him. 
bhe  knelt  down  and  laid  her  cheek  against  his  tear-wet  face. 


164  AGNES. 

"  Father,"  she  whispered,  "  is  there  no  other  way?  " 

"  None,  none  !  "  he  groaned,  bitterly. 

"  Then  it  shall  be  done !  "  was  the  reply,  and  her  voice 
trembled  not,  though  she  knew  those  words  spoke  her  doom. 

"  It  is  not  for  life !  "  murmured  the  old  man,  at  length, 
as  if  talking  to  himself.  "  I  should  not  fear  death  '.  But 
for  our  name,  our  honorable  name,  to  be  branded  with  that 
shameful  word !  For  the  last  of  our  ancient  race  to  die  by 
the  hangman's  hands  !  —  0,  horrible !  I  would  not  care  for 
life,  but  they  will  take  away  my  honor !  " 

"  Dear  father,  be  comforted  !  "  again  spoke  that  voice  be 
side  him.  But,  unheeding,  he  went  on : 

"  And  for  you,  Evelyn  !  —  who  will  care  for  you  ?  Child 
of  a  dishonored  parent,  what  will  become  of  you?  Will  the 
grave  close  over  you,  too  ?  Will  you  die  broken-hearted  ? 
0,  my  child,  my  child  !  " 

"Father,  hear  me  !  "  said  Evelyn.  "  We  will  live  together! 
You  shall  not  die !  " 

He  shook  his  head  mournfully.  "  There  is  no  escape !  " 
he  said.  "  It  was  with  no  premeditated  design  of  treachery 
I  entered  into  communication  with  Gen.  Lee.  I  admired  the 
brave  and  gallant  man  who  had  given  up  so  much  for  his 
adopted  country,  and  now  struggles  against  such  fearful  diffi 
culties.  He  gave  me  his  confidence,  —  imparted  to  me  a 
design  by  which  he  might,  in  one  brilliant  stroke,  turn  the 
fortunes  of  the  war.  He  waited  to  hear  from  me  —  informa 
tion  that  my  position  enabled  me  readily  to  send  him.  I  sent 
it.  There  was  no  wrong  in  the  act ;  but  there  is  danger,  fatal 


THE     STRUGGLE.  165 

danger  and  disgrace,  in  the  discovery  ;  and  now  all  is  known 
to  Stanley,  and  from  him  there  is  no  escape.  " 

"  There  is  escape, — there  is  safety  for  you.  I  will  be  his 
wife,"  said  Evelyn,  firmly.  "  0,  my  father,  be  comforted ! " 

Mr.  Chester  clasped  her  to  his  breast  in  a  long,  close  em 
brace,  and  again  scalding  drops  fell  like  rain  upon  the  eyes 
which,  through  all  this  terrible  scene,  had  not  shed  a  tear. 

"  I  will  save  you !  "  she  whispered,  softly. 

"  And  be  yourself  the  sacrifice  !  "  said  her  father,  after  a 
short  silence,  and  with  dreary  calmness.  "  No,  that  shall 
never  be  !  What  is  my  worthless  life  ?  Let  them  take  it, 
since  God  and  my  own  conscience  know  I  believed  myself 
right  in  what  I  did.  Evelyn,  blessed  child,  you  have  given 
me  courage  and  strength.  Could  you  dream  I  would  make 
you  the  victim  ?  " 

"  0,"  said  she,  earnestly,  "  can  you  think  it  will  be  a  sacri 
fice  to  me,  to  save  your  life  ?  Shall  I  ever  know  happiness 
again,  if  I  cannot  avert  your  doom?  0,  I  beseech  you,  as 
you  value  my  peace  of  mind,  oppose  me  not  in  this  thing  !  " 

"  It  must  not  be  !  "  replied  Mr.  Chester,  resolutely.  "  My 
whole  soul  blesses  you,  but  I  will  not  accept  life  on  such 
terms ;  —  your  heart  broken,  your  happiness  gone  forever  !  " 

"  My  happiness  !  "  exclaimed  Evelyn.  "  Will  it  not  be  the 
purest  joy  to  see  you  beside  me — to  make  your  old  age 
peaceful  ?  Think  how  beautiful  our  life  has  been  !  —  how 
pleasant  is  our  home !  Will  you  destroy  it  all  ?  Will  you 
leave  me  alone  in  the  world  ?  " 

Mr.  Chester  wavered.     Visions  of  past  enjoyment  came 


166  A  ONE  8. 

over  him,  and  the  love  of  life,  strongest  in  old  age,  returned  in 
full  force.  He  looked  troubled,  and  spoke  doubtingly. 

"  If  you  would  not  be  wretched  —  if  we  could  live  together 
as  we  have  done !  But  that  bad  man !  You  cannot  love 
him  !  —  nay,  you  love  another  !  " 

"  Hush !  "  said  she,  interrupting  him.  "  We  must  not 
speak  of  that,  now.  I  will  be  Col.  Stanley's  wife.  He  will 
not  expect  love,  and  I  can  obey .'  " 

"  But  he  may  be  unkind  to  you,  my  darling  !  —  If  you 
marry  him,  you  will  be  so  entirely  in  his  power  !  " 

"  I  am  a  woman  —  no  gentleman  will  ill-treat  a  woman," 
she  answered,  gently. 

He  sat  a  little  while  in  deep  thought,  and  then,  starting 
suddenly  from  his  chair,  he  threw  up  his  arms  with  a  frantic 
gesture. 

"  0,  God ! "  he  cried,  "  that  I  should  be  loitering  here, 
seeing  you,  hearing  you,  knowing  you  are  giving  yourself  to  a 
living  death !  —  and  I,  fool,  coward  that  I  am,  hesitate 
whether  to  compel  you  to  this  sacrifice,  or  to  give  up  my  few 
remaining  days  !  —  Coward !  "  and  he  turned  to  the  door. 

But,  anticipating  his  design,  Evelyn  sprang  before  him, 
and,  falling  at  his  feet,  clung  to  his  knees  in  desperation. 

"  Will  you  kill  me  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  in  agony.  "  Is  there 
one  sorrow  so  great  as  to  see  you  die  ?  "  and,  overwrought  by 
this  long  excitement,  she  grew  deathly  pale  and  faint,  her 
hold  relaxed,  and  she  eank  helplessly  on  the  floor  beside  him. 

Mr.  Chester  raised  her  in  his  arms,  and  bathed  her  face 
and  hands  until  she  revived.  Lying  on  his  breast,  listening 


THE     STRUGGLE.  167 

to  his  caressing  words,  full  of  remorseful  tenderness,  she  grew 
self-collected  and  calm. 

"  Let  me  go  !  "  she  said.  "  The  man  is  resolute,  and  we 
must  not  offend  him.  He  is  waiting  for  me.  When  he  is 
gone,  the  trial  will  be  past." 

But  he  held  her  closer  to  his  heart.  "  Tempt  me  not,  dear 
est,"  he  murmured  ;  "  for  you  are  very  precious  to  me,  and 
the  love  of  life  is  strong." 

"  Let  me  go !  "  repeated  Evelyn,  in  a  tone  so  firm  it 
sounded  like  a  command ;  and,  freeing  herself  from  his  arms, 
she  pressed  a  kiss  on  his  lips,  and  turned  away. 

Stanley  had  been  hurriedly  pacing  the  floor  during  the 
time  of  her  absence,  and,  as  she  entered  the  room,  he  paused 
and  remained  standing  until  she  came  near. 

"  Have  you  decided  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  quick,  agitated  tone. 

"  I  have." 

"  You  yield  at  last,  then  ?  " 

"  To  save  my  father  from  shame  and  death,  I  yield." 

"  You  will  be  my  bride  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  she  answered,  quietly. 

"  That  is  well,"  said  he  ;  and  then,  after  a  short  pause,  he 
added,  in  a  tone  to  which  a  sense  of  their  relative  situations 
gave  a  tinge  of  irony, 

"  Permit  me  to  beg  you  to  name  an  early  day." 

A  deep  flush  burned  on  her  cheek,  and  then  left  it  white  as 
marble. 

"I  am  at  your  mercy,"  she  replied,  in  a  low  tone.  "It  is 
for  you  to  dictate  to  me." 


168  AGNES. 

Stanley  bit  his  lip,  and  said,  with  a  confused  manner, 
"  Since  you  waive  the  lady's  privilege,  allow  me  to  say  that 
in  a  week  a  vessel  leaves  for  England,  bearing  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  with  despatches ;  and,  as  the  war  seems  drawing  to  a 
close,  I  have  no  doubt  I  can  make  arrangements  to  accompany 
him.  This  may  be  the  best  opportunity  we  shall  have  for 
some  months,  since  you  can  be  unusually  well  accommo 
dated,  and  I  shall  be  very  glad  if  we  can  be  married  before 
the  vessel  leaves.  Your  father  will  of  course  go  with  us, 
and  we  will  endeavor  to  forget,  in  merry  England,  the  unfor 
tunate  incidents  that  have  disturbed  us  here." 

Evelyn  heard  him  in  silence.  The  first  stroke  of  a  keen 
sorrow,  if  it  does  not  prostrate  the  frame,  nerves  it  to  greater 
endurance ;  and  she  was  able  to  reply,  with  forced  composure, 

" Let  it  be  so,  then.     When  does  the  ship  sail? " 

"  A  week  from  to-day  is  the  time  fixed." 

"Next  week,  then,  on  Wednesday  morning,  I  await  you 
here,"  she  said.  "  Meantime  I  have  some  slight  conditions  to 
impose." 

"  Name  them,  and  your  wishes  shall  be  my  law,"  answered 
Stanley,  and  his  voice  was  kind  and  respectful.  He  felt  really 
grateful  that  she  spared  him  a  repetition  of  the  scenes  which, 
although  they  could  not  arouse  his  pity,  had  annoyed  him 
excessively. 

"  Thank  you !  "  said  Evelyn,  in  the  same  frigid  tone  she 
had  maintained  throughout  this  strange  conversation.  "  I 
desire  to  receive  from  you  oh  that  day,  before  the  ceremony 


THE     STRUGGLE.  169 

takes  place,  all  the  papers  which  can  in  any  way  implicate 
my  father." 

"  Certainly,  you  shall  have  them,"  he  replied,  as  she 
paused. 

"  My  other  wish  is,  that  from  now  until  that  time  you 
will  make  no  effort  to  see  either  me  or  my  poor  father.  You 
have  my  promise,  and  surely  you  may  trust  it.  If  any  com 
munications  are  necessary,  they  can  be  made  in  writing." 

"  This  also  shall  be  as  you  desire,"  said  Stanley.  "  Would 
I  could  convince  you  how  much  I  shall  hereafter  strive  in  all 
things  to  please  you  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  took  her  hand.  She  drew  it  away,  and 
stepped  back  haughtily,  while  a  faint  smile  curled  her  lip  at 
the  mockery  of  such  language.  He  perceived  the  repulse, 
and,  bowing  low,  as  he  bade  her  good-night,  abruptly  with 
drew. 

"  The  girl  is  a  trump !  "  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  gained 
the  street.  "  Although  we  may  not  be  a  very  loving  couple, 
I  shall  be  proud  of  her.  She  will  not  annoy  me  with  the 
usual  weaknesses  of  her  sex." 

At  that  moment,  his  victim,  in  the  solitude  of  her  chamber, 
overcome  by  the  reaction  of  that  long-imposed  restraint,  lay 
writhing  like  a  crushed  worm,  and  moaning  helplessly  in  her 
despair. 

15 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE    VICTORY. 

COL.  STANLEY  was  a  cold-hearted  and  selfish  man,  and  to 
tally  unscrupulous  as  to  the  means  used  to  gain  a  desired  end; 
but  there  was  something  in  his  nature  which  made  him  admire 
calmness  and  strength  in  others,  and  he  had  never  felt  such 
genuine  regard  or  love  for  Evelyn  as  during  the  week  inter 
vening  between  his  engagement  and  the  time  set  for  his  mar 
riage.  Had  she  shrieked  or  fainted  beneath  the  trial  to  which 
he  had  subjected  her,  had  she  wearied  him  with  entreaties  and 
tears,  she  would  have  excited  contempt,  instead  of  pity.  But 
the  silence  with  which  she  struggled  with  her  feelings  at  first, 
and  her  calmness  and  self-control  afterwards,  aroused  a 
deeper  emotion  than  he  thought  himself  capable  of  expe 
riencing  for  any  woman. 

He  knew  that  in  her  eyes  he  must  appear  cruel  and  un 
principled,  and  he  had  a  wild  desire  to  retrieve  his  character, 
and  win  her  heart.  He  kept  his  promise  not  to  intrude  upon 
her  personally,  but  found  some  excuse,  every  day,  for  sending 
messages  with  regard  to  their  preparations  for  departure ;  and 
he  could  have  shed  tears  of  vexation,  "  albeit  unused  to  the 


THE     VICTOEY.  171 

melting  mood,"  when,  instead  of  any  reply  from  Evelyn,  he 
received  in  return  only  a  verbal  answer,  or  a  few  lines  from 
her  father.  From  the  moment  when  he  decided  to  compel 
her  to  become  his  wife,  he  had  resolutely  shut  his  eyes  to 
all  sense  of  wrong  in  the  act ;  but  he  would  have  given  up 
everything,  except  herself,  to  have  been  able  to  banish  from 
her  mind  the  recollection  of  the  means  by  which  her  consent 
had  been  won. 

While  he  was  in  this  uneasy  state,  news  came  from  the 
seat  of  war  which  entirely  changed  public  opinion  with  regard 
to  its  continuance.  Instead  of  returning  to  England  to 
announce  the  defeat  of  the  rebels  and  the  dispersion  of  their 
army,  Lord  Cornwallis  found  himself  obliged  to  proceed  to 
Jersey,  and  Col.  Stanley  received  orders  to  join  his  regiment, 
which  was  already  in  the  field. 

Of  this  news  Evelyn  and  her  father  had  heard  nothing ;  for 
they  neither  went  abroad  nor  received  company.  It  had  been 
well  for  the  former  that  during  these  miserable  days  she  had 
not  been  able  to  brood  listlessly  over  her  own  sufferings. 
Besides  the  necessity  of  making  some  preparation  for  the 
voyage  to  England,  —  then  something  more  than  a  ten  days' 
excursion,  —  she  found  herself  obliged  to  sustain  and  console 
her  father,  who  was  almost  distracted  at  the  position  in 
\vhich  he  was  placed. 

His  isolated  life,  and  the  absence  of  all  near  ties  of  rela 
tionship,  had  served  to  centre  all  his  love  upon  his  child, 
between  whom  and  himself  there  existed  the  most  doting  and 
enthusiastic  affection.  The  one  object  of  his  existence  had 


172  AGNES. 

been  to  make  life  bright  to  her,  and  he  had  fondly  dreamed 
he  could  shelter  her  from  every  shade  of  grief.  But  what 
human  love  was  ever  sufficiently  powerful  and  far-seeing  to 
ward  off  from  the  beloved  one  the  evils  to  which  humanity  is 
heir  ?  Sooner  or  later,  the  clouds  will  gather,  and  the  storms 
assail.  In  this  dark  hour,  Mr.  Chester  saw  his  idol  exposed 
to  the  keenest  blasts  of  sorrow,  and  found  himself  powerless 
to  aid.  If  he  made  any  movement  of  defiance  against  the 
force  which  crushed  him,  he  knew  he  should  entail  upon  her  a 
life-long  misery;  and  if  he  accepted  the  sacrifice  she  offered 
to  avert  his  doom,  what  bitter  memories  must  ever  haunt  her 
of  lost  hopes  and  ruined  happiness ! 

He  sank  in  the  struggle.  In  those  few  days  he  grew 
emaciated  and  bent,  like  one  in  extreme  old  age,'  and  at 
times  his  eyes  had  a  wild  glare  that  startled  Evelyn.  She 
forced  herself  to  calmness  and  cheerfulness,  shutting  out  the 
memory  of  the  past,  the  thought  of  the  future,  and  looking 
hourly,  momently,  to  that  Almighty  source  whence  only 
strength  can  come  for  these  utmost  exigencies  of  mortal  need. 

Yet  the  sacrifice  was  great,  and  the  disappointment  heavy. 
She  had  written  Percy  Grey  a  full  account  of  the  circum 
stances  which  placed  her  in  the  power  of  another ;  and  found 
means  to  send  the  letter  by  Jem  Henderson,  who  had  taken 
the  first  opportunity  to  leave  the  city,  lest  he  should  be  again 
arrested  for  his  share  in  the  prisoner's  escape.  She  knew  her 
lover  would  not  blame  her ;  that  no  personal  regret  would 
prevent  the  generous  instinct  of  his  nature  from  recognizing 
and  appreciating  her  self-abnegation  ;  but  she  shrank  from  the 


THE    VICTORY.  173 

thought  of  his  keen  and  lasting  grief,  and  feared  that,  in  the 
recklessness  of  despair,  he  might  throw  away  in  battle  the  life 
which  would  seem  to  him  henceforth  only  a  weary  burden. 

Overpowered  with  these  reflections  whenever  she  was  alone, 
Evelyn  sat  one  afternoon  in  her  own  chamber.  But  one  day 
more  of  freedom  remained  to  her.  She  shrank,  in  shuddering 
disgust,  from  the  fatal  marriage  that  would  so  soon  shut  out 
hope  forever,  and  make  the  only  love  her  soul  could  know  a 
crime.  The  frozen  earth,  ice-bound  in  its  winter  chains,  the 
lowering  sky,  from  whence  a  cold  rain  was  slowly  falling, 
seemed  not  more  dreary  than  the  life  stretching  out  before 
her.  And  she  was  so  young  !  And  it  is  so  long  before  a  bro 
ken  heart  can  kill ! 

A  knock  at  her  chamber-door  aroused  her,  and  Juniper's 
glossy  face  looked  in  to  announce  Col.  Stanley's  presence  in 
the  parlor  below. 

"  I  cannot  see  him !  Where  is  my  father?  I  will  not  see 
him  !  "  she  exclaimed,  nervously. 

"  He  say  not  tell  ole  massa  !  —  on'y  tell  you,  and  gib  you 
dis  !  "  and  Juniper  held  forth  a  card  on  which  were  pencilled 
these  words : 

"  Excuse  my  intrusion  ;  it  was  unavoidable.  I  have  some 
thing  very  important  to  say,  and  I  must  see  you.  Do  not 
deny  me." 

She  paused  a  few  moments,  to  remove  from  her  face  the 

traces  of  tears,  and  restore  her  neglected  dress  to  its  usual 

decorum.      Not  as  a  suppliant  and  a  trembler  would  she 

appear  before  her  persecutor.     If  she  must  yield,  she  would 

15* 


174  AGNES. 

yield  coldly,  proudly,  and  he  should  respect  the  victim  who 
had  scorned  his  love. 

Col.  Stanley  sat  by  the  fire  when  she  entered  the  room,  and 
for  a  moment  he  did  not  move  or  speak,  so  much  was  he 
astonished  at  the  change  in  her  appearance.  The  last  time 
he  had  seen  her  by  daylight,  she  was  radiant  in  beauty,  her 
flexible  mouth  wreathed  in  smiles,  and  no  shade  of  trouble 
lurked  in  the  brightness  of  her  lustrous  eyes.  Now  the  deli 
cate  bloom  of  her  cheek  had  faded,  the  muscles  about  her 
mouth  were  set  in  a  cold  and  rigid  expression,  and  over  her 
whole  face  was  spread  a  pallid  and  deathly  hue,  like  that  of 
one  who  struggles  with  a  mortal  disease. 

She  advanced  slowly,  and  stood  leaning  against  the  high 
back  of  an  arm-chair  while  she  addressed  him ;  for  she 
wished  thus  to  intimate  that  their  interview  must  be  brief. 
Her  haughty,  measured  tone  recalled  his  self-possession.  He 
courteously  entreated  her  to  be  seated,  since  he  had  much  to 
say,  and  the  aspect  of  the  future  seemed  changed.  Evelyn 
complied,  for,  indeed,  her  worn  frame  could  ill  sustain  this 
renewed  agitation ;  and  he  told  her  briefly  of  the  tidings  from 
Trenton,  and  that  in  consequence  Lord  Cornwallis  had  given 
up  the  idea  of  leaving  the  country  at  present.  Honor  com 
pelled  him,  he  added,  after  so  long  an  idleness,  to  proceed  at 
once  to  the  field  of  war;  and  as  the  ship  would  sail  with 
despatches,  he  should  be  obliged  to  spend  the  winter  in 
America. 

He  watched  Evelyn  keenly  during  this  recital,  longing  to 
know  the  feelings  with  which  she  listened ;  but  the  day  was 


THE     VICTOKY.  176 

dark,  her  chair  was  placed  so  that  her  face  was  in  shadow, 
and,  as  she  sat  with  her  eyes  cast  down,  he  could  detect 
nothing,  save  from  the  convulsive  clasping  of  her  hands,  of 
the  agony  of  hope,  fear,  and  anxiety,  wherewith  she  listened 
to  him.  If  she  must  be  wedded,  there  were  so  many  reasons 
why  she  wished  to  leave  the  country;  but,  perhaps,  these 
abhorred  nuptials  might  now  be  deferred ;  and,  hopeless  as  she 
was  of  ultimate  escape,  she  drew  a  long  breath  at  the  thought 
of  reprieve,  as  if  a  load  had  been  lifted  from  her  breast. 
But  Stanley's  next  words  crushed  the  rising  expectation. 

"  You  do  not  reply  to  me,"  said  he,  a  little  quickly,  as  if 
vexed  at  her  silence,  "  and  I  am  compelled  to  add,  that  since 
I  must  leave  this  evening,  perhaps  our  marriage  might  take 
place  this  afternoon,  and  you  and  your  father  can,  if  you 
choose,  go  to  England  in  the  ship,  as  we  intended.  I  can  join 
you  in  the  spring." 

Evelyn  uttered  a  faint  exclamation  of  dismay  at  these 
words,  so  unforeseen  and  dreadful,  but  she  recovered  herself 
instantly. 

"  If  you  wish  it,"  she  said,  gently.  "  Let  it  be  as  you 
will." 

The  little  hands,  which  had  been  clenched  so  tightly 
together,  loosened  themselves  and  fell  down  by  her  side,  and 
she  sank  back  helplessly  in  the  chair.  She  had  resigned  her 
self  to  her  fate. 

Stanley  gazed  upon  her  with  feelings  which  no  pen  could 
describe. 

•'And  what  then ?  "  said  he.    "  Will  you  go  to  England  ?  " 


176  AGNES. 

"  Perhaps  it  will  be  better  so,"  she  answered,  in  the  same 
cold,  quiet  tone. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  then,  half  kneeling,  seized  her 
hands  with  an  impatient  gesture. 

"  And  //  "  said  he,  almost  fiercely,  —  "  do  you  think  I  can 
live  six  months  without  you  ?  Without  you  —  in  this  savage 
country,  which  your  presence  alone  could  make  tolerable  ! 
0,  Evelyn,"  he  added,  with  a  sudden  change  of  manner, 
"  why  do  I  love  you  so  well,  when  I  am  only  hateful  in  your 
eyes  ?  " 

He  turned  away,  and  paced  the  room  with  rapid  footsteps. 
Anger,  reproaches,  entreaties,  he  might  have  borne,  but  her 
dignified  submission  disarmed  him.  Of  the  self-sacrifice  that 
prompted  her  actions  he  understood  little ;  but  the  firmness 
with  which  she  forced  herself  to  meet  what  seemed  inevitable 
he  could  appreciate  and  admire,  for  it  was  akin  to  his  own 
strong  will,  and  the  inflexibility  of  his  purposes.  It  would 
have  been  hard  to  tell  which  of  the  two  were  at  that  moment 
most  wretched.  Stanley  could  not  bring  himself  to  give  up 
the  power  he  had  acquired,  and  yet  was  filled  with  a  blind 
and  desperate  rage  that  its  exercise  obliged  him  to  appear 
cruel. 

A  thought  which  occurred  to  him,  not,  indeed,  for  the  first 
time,  calmed  his  perturbation.  He  resolved  to  appear  to 
yield  —  to  throw  himself  upon  her  honor.  This  would  be  a 
band  of  adamant  between  them,  and  yet  relieve  him  of  some 
part  of  the  odium  now  attached  to  his  conduct.  He  paused 
suddenly  before  her,  saying,  gently  and  sorrowfully, 


THE     VICTORY.  177 

"  Evelyn,  during  all  this  time  you  have  not  once  raised 
your  eyes  to  my  face.  Look  at  me — speak  to  me  —  say 
shall  this  marriage  be  deferred  ?  " 

She  looked  up  with  an  eager  expression  of  joy  and  grati 
tude,  which  gleamed  over  her  pale  face  like  a  sudden  burst 
of  sunshine  over  a  wintry  sky. 

"  I  see,"  he  continued,  in  a  tone  that  moved  her  by  its 
sadness,  —  "  I  see !  It  needs  no  words  to  tell  how  gladly  you 
would  escape.  0,  Evelyn,  can  I  do  nothing  —  nothing,  to 
make  you  regard  me  kindly?  " 

There  seemed  to  be  almost  mockery  in  this  appeal,  but 
Evelyn  did  not  scorn  it,  for  she  saw  the  struggle  he  was 
enduring ;  and,  after  gazing  at  her'  a  few  moments  longer, 
Stanley  drew  from  his  pocket  a  small  parcel  of  papers,  and 
laid  them  in  her  lap.  She  grasped  them  with  an  exclamation 
of  unutterable  thankfulness. 

"  See,"  he  said,  "  you  have  thought  me  unkind  and  reck 
less;  now  you  shall  know  the  power  you  have  over  me,  and 
how  completely  I  trust  your  word.  These  papers  contain  all 
the  evidence  against  your  father — all  which  could  implicate 
or  injure  him.  Were  they  destroyed,  he  would  be  safe." 

"  And  I  may  destroy  them  !  "  she  cried,  her  face  suffused 
'with  a  beautiful  color,  and  her  eyes  sparkling  as  he  had  never 
seen  them  before. 

"  On  one  condition  they  are  yours,  and  that  not  a  hard 
one,"  he  added,  as  her  glance  grew  clouded.  "  I  will  not 
compel  you  against  your  will  at  present  —  I  will  be  patient 
BO  long  as  patience  promises  the  faintest  hope.  Evelyn,  I 


178  AGNES. 

would  give  you  the  heart  out  of  my  bosom,  but  I  cannot  —  I 
cannot  resign  you  to  the  arms  of  another.  Promise  me, 
swear  to  me,  that  at  some  future  day  you  will  be  my  wife,  and 
that  you  will  never  wed  another." 

As  he  spoke  he  seized  her  hand  and  placed  it  upon  the 
Bible  lying  on  the  table  near.  She  fixed  her  eyes  sternly 
upon  his  face. 

" Upon  these  conditions  I  may  destroy  these  papers? "  she 
said. 

"  Upon  these  alone  !  "  was  the  reply. 

"  I  swear !  "  said  Evelyn,  solemnly.  The  color  faded  from 
her  cheek,  and  the  light  from  her  eye,  but  her  expression  was 
not  so  hard,  not  so  despairing,  as  before.  It  was  much  to 
have  gained  time. 

He  still  held  her  hand.  It  was  cold  as  ice,  and  passive  in 
his  throbbing,  feverish  grasp ;  but  her  eyes  fell  not  beneath  his 
gaze,  and  their  regnant  glance  controlled  him. 

At  length,  she  said,  more  kindly  than  she  had  hitherto 
spoken,  "  For  so  much  favor,  I  thank  you.  It  will  be  a  great 
satisfaction  to  my  father  to  have  this  parcel  once  more  in  his 
possession.  As  to  the  rest,  you  know  you  may  trust  me  ;  I 
think  I  may  trust  you,  that  the  vow  I  have  taken  shall  not 
be  urged  upon  me  with  indecent  haste.  You  will  never  ask 
me  for  love  —  I  will  try  not  to  hate  you  !  " 

"  And  is  this  all  ?  Will  you  drive  me  mad  with  your  dis 
dain  ?  Evelyn  Chester,  if  I  fall  in  the  battle  to  which  I  go, 
may  I  not  at  least  hope  to  be  remembered  with  a  certain 
pity,  as  of  one  '  who  loved  not  wisely,  but  too  well '  ?  " 


THE    VICTOEY.  179 

The  pathos  of  his  tone  might  have  moved  her,  if  she  could 
have  forgotten  the  intense  selfishness  of  the  affection  he  thus 
urged ;  but  now  she  wearied  of  him,  and  made  no  reply.  His 
piercing  eyes  scanned  her  downcast  face  for  many  moments 
of  silence,  though  in  its  cold,  quiet  lineaments  he  saw  nothing 
of  the  emotion  he  wished  to  excite. 

"  Farewell !  "  he  said,  at  length.  "  If  I  stay  longer,  you 
may  exasperate  me  too  far  with  your  pride  and  your  coldness. 
I  will  go  while  we  can  part  in  peace.  We  understand  each 
other  now." 

She  looked  up  quickly,  with  a  fierce  contempt  and  passion 
in  the  curve  of  her  white  lip  and  her  dilated  nostrils. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  I  understand  you,  —  perfectly  !  " 

Stung  by  her  scorn,  maddened  by  the  wild  love  that  filled 
him,  these  last  words  were  too  much  for  his  self-command. 
He  flung  from  him  angrily  the  hand  he  had  held,  but  the  next 
moment  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  pressed  his  lips  upon 
hers. 

"  Thus,  then,  I  claim  you,  my  promised  bride  !  "  he  cried, 
in  a  tone  of  exulting  triumph,  as  the  kiss  burned  through  his 
veins  like  fire. 

Another  moment,  and  he  was  gone.  She  wrung  her  hands 
and  clenched  them  in  vain  anger.  She  could  have  torn  off 
the  lips  his  touch  had  polluted.  But  none  the  less  did  she 
feel  his  power  over  her.  His  iron  will,  his  stony  heart,  h'ad 
won  the  victory.  The  fatal  vow  made  her  his  forever,  and 
she  could  not  escape  her  doom. 

A  slow,  feeble  step,  passing  by  the  door,  awakened  other 


180  AGNES. 

thoughts.  One  treasure  had  been  saved  from  this  wreck  of 
her  young  life.  Her  father  was  no  longer  in  danger.  She 
picked  up  the  precious  papers,  which  had  fallen  upon  the  floor, 
and,  after  examining  them,  followed  him  into  the  library. 

He  was  sitting  in  his  accustomed  seat  by  the  table,  but  his 
books  were  closed  and  put  away,  as  if  for  many  days  he  had 
not  touched  them ;  the  fire  smouldered  beneath  white  ashes, 
and  the  shadows  of  the  heavy  curtains  fell  like  a  pall  over  the 
forlorn  old  man.  He  did  not  move  from  his  attitude  of  utter 
dejection,  or  look  at  her  as  she  knelt  beside  him ;  but  when 
she  unclasped  his  nerveless  fingers  and  laid  the  parcel  in  his 
hand,  he  started  as  from  an  electric  touch,  for  an  inward 
prescience  told  him  what  they  were,  even  before  he  opened 
them  with  tremulous  eagerness. 

"Where  did  you  get  them?  Evelyn,  child,  speak!  Are 
they  yours  ?  Are  you  saved  ?  " 

"  You  are  saved,  my  father !  "  she  said,  and  a  thrill  of  joy 
ran  through  her  pain,  as  she  saw  the  sudden  lighting  of  his 
face. 

"They  are  all  here;  —  how  did  you  obtain  them?  Dear 
child,  is  there  hope,  is  there  comfort,  for  us  yet?  Has  the 
man  relented  ?  Are  you  free  ?  " 

"  All  is  as  it  was  before,  except  that  we  may  put  off  the 
evil  day." 

"  And  what  changes  may  not  time  bring  ?  "  he  exclaimed, 
fervently. 

"  Nay,  I  am  vowed  to  him  for  life ;  but  he  can  no  longer 
do  you  harm.  You  may  destroy  the  papers,  and  now  no 


THE    TICTORY.  181 

anger,  or  whim,  or  change  of  feeling,  in  him,  can  produce 
evidence  against  you.  Be  glad  for  me,  my  father  —  the  sac 
rifice  you  mourned  has  not  been  in  vain  !  " 

She  gathered  the  pieces,  and  laid  them  on  the  fire.  They 
shot  into  a  bright  blaze,  and  vanished  up  the  chimney.  Mr. 
Chester  gave  a  sigh,  a  long,  long  sigh  of  relief,  and  his  tall 
figure  drew  itself  up  erect  once  more,  as  if  the  burden  which 
had  pressed  him  down  was  gone.  Evelyn  noticed  the  act,  and 
her  face  grew  calm  and  holy  with  the  peace  which  must  follow 
entire  self-abnegation.  He  drew  her  fondly  to  his  breast,  and 
caressed  her  with  low-spoken  words  of  endearment ;  and,  as 
she  listened,  her  sick  heart  seemed  to  forget  its  woe,  and 
gather  new  life  from  the  life  she  had  given  him. 

"  Now,  my  love,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  surely  I  can  free 
you  from  any  danger  you  have  incurred.  There  is  nothing 
to  prove  me  a  dangerous  person,  and  we  can  leave  the  city 
without  fear  of  being  hindered  by  the  suspicions  of  any  one. 
Once  in  our  old  home,  I  can  protect  you  from  the  designs  of 
this  bad  man." 

"  But  my  vow !  —  0,  father,  I  could  not  gain  your  safety 
without,  —  I  feared  to  trust  it  to  his  unfeeling  heart,  his 
capricious  will,  —  and  I  vowed  to  marry  him  when  he  shall 
demand  my  hand." 

"  He  has  no  honor,  no  truth  in  him ;  he  keeps  no  faith 
with  others  —  let  him  expect  none !  "  replied  Mr.  Chester, 
sternly. 

His  daughter  looked  at  him  with  an  anxious  expression, 
and  for  a  few  moments  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 
16 


182  AGNES. 

"  What  is  it,  darling  ?  — speak !  "  he  said. 

"  0,  father,"  she  answered,  slowly,  "  do  not  tempt  me 
with  such  words !  If  I  was  rash  in  making  the  vow,  it 
must  none  the  less  be  kept.  Will  wrong  in  another  make 
my  wrong  right?  Hope,  happiness,  is  gone  from  me.  I 
have  but  my  truth  left,  and  my  trust  in  God.  Shall  I  sacri 
fice  these  ?  Say,  father,  would  it  be  right  ?  " 

But  Mr.  Chester  made  no  reply.  He  drew  her  head  down 
to  its  resting-place  on  his  breast,  and  a  long  silence  suc 
ceeded.  He  could  not  bear  to  utter  the  maxims  of  worldly 
wisdom  in  the  ears  that  had  been  opened  to  heavenly 
teachings, 


CHAPTER    XII. 

UNEXPECTED   MEETINGS. 

IT  was  a  still,  gray  day,  the  air  heavy  with  falling  snow, 
the  earth  stretched  out  stark  and  motionless  beneath  its 
wintry  pall.  There  was  no  hurrying  of  the  wind,  to  toy 
and  dally  with  the  silvery  flakes,  heaping  them  into  curves 
and  mimic  flower-wreaths;  no  clattering  crash  of  ice-laden 
branches,  no  whispering  or  whistling  of  the  blast  around  the 
angles  and  windows  of  the  old  farm-house,  which,  with  only 
a  faint  curl  of  smoke  from  its  chimney  to  give  sign  of  life, 
stood  lonely  and  cheerless  amid  the  frigid  landscape. 

The  pressure  of  the  unelastic  atmosphere  was  felt  within 
doors,  where  the  family  sat  around  the  kitchen-fire.  Mr. 
Grey  nodded  in  his  chair.  His  wife  was  silently  engaged  in 
repairing  an  old  garment ;  and  at  her  feet  a  slight,  youthful 
figure  bent  over  some  sewing-work,  upon  which  her  fingers 
moved  with  a  languid,  abstracted  air. 

She  was  wasted  and  pale  from  recent  illness,  but  neither 
this  nor  the  quaint  Quaker  dress  she  wore,  evidently  fashioned 
from  the  elder  lady's  wardrobe,  could  hide  the  grace  of  her 
form,  or  mar  the  beauty  of  a  face  whose  delicate  features 


184  AGNES. 

were  like  those  of  a  Grecian  model.  Her  hair  was  only 
beginning  to  grow,  after  being  cut  so  close,  and  the  short 
golden  curls,  clustering  over  her  brow,  gave  her  a  childish 
aspect ;  but  her  quiet  attitude  was  full  of  thought,  and 
there  was  a  maturity  of  sorrowful  experience  in  the  listless 
drooping  of  her  head,  and  the  wistful  gaze  of  the  blue  eyes, 
that  ever  seemed  to  be  looking  back  into  the  past,  or  waiting 
and  watching  in  a  sort  of  anxious  terror  of  what  the  future 
might  bring. 

Sitting  at  a  little  distance,  with  his  right  hand  in  a  sling, 
Frank  watched  her  now,  as  she  pursued  her  monotonous 
employment,  and  wondered  at  the  strange  inner  life  thus 
only  revealed;  for  of  her  wanderings  and  secret  pain  she 
had  never  spoken,  and  these  kind  protectors  respected  her 
silence.  With  the  simple  gratitude  of  a  child  she  had 
accepted  their  offer  of  shelter,  and  nestled  close  beside  the 
matron  whose  tranquil  dignity  covered  so  warm  a  heart ; 
while  her  pleasant  manner,  her  low  voice,  sweet  and  trem 
ulous,  and  the  mute  appeal  of  her  beseeching  eyes,  had  won 
their  affection  and  disarmed  suspicion,  until  they  shrank 
almost  as  much  as  she  did  from  any  manifestation  of  the  curi 
osity  that  so  terrified  and  pained  her. 

Yawning  over  his  own  dulness,  Frank  at  length  said, 
moodily,  "  This  is  stupid  enough !  If  my  tongue  don't  run 
like  a  mill-clapper,  the  silence  is  perfectly  appalling.  Speak, 
some  of  you,  or  I  shall  wish  I  was  a  bear,  so  I  could  get  into 
a  hollow  tree  and  sleep  away  the  winter  sucking  my  paws. 
If  I  was  n't  always  the  luckiest  fellow  in  the  world,  I  should 


UNEXPECTED     MEETINGS.  185 

say  this  lame  hand  was  a  confounded  piece  of  ill-fortune 
just  now.  Father,  mother,  Agnes,  say  something,  or  I  shall 
have  the  blues  before  I  know  it !  " 

"  Has  thee  never  heard,  '  silence  is  golden '  ?  "  said  Mrs. 
Grey,  smiling. 

"  Yes ;  but  '  speech  is  silver,'  and  that 's  the  handiest  for 
common  currency." 

"  You  might  make  a  little  fortin',  now,  by  hiring  yourself 
out  to  do  the  talkin'  for  somebody.  A  slow-mouthed  man 
would  pay  you  somethin'  handsome  to  do  his'n,"  said  Mr. 
Grey. 

"  That  speculation  might  pay,"  replied  Frank,  "  if  the 
horses  had  n't  been  stolen  and  the  barn  burnt  down.  But 
you  see,  the  silver  now-a-days  is  all  paper-money,  at  about 
five  shillings  a  ton ;  and  I  should  make  so  much,  I  should 
have  nowhere  to  put  it,  and  nothing  to  haul  it  there  with." 

"  You  can  laugh,  if  you  're  a  mind  to,"  rejoined  his  father, 
"  but  it 's  kind  o'  awful  to  think  what  the  country  is  a  comin' 
to.  I  never  see  sich  times  afore  in  this  world,  I  tell  you. 
It  seems  mostly  as  if  it  't  wan't  no  use  keepin'  up  the  war 
no  longer." 

"  If  you  think  that,  you  ought  to  have  seen  our  soldiers 
in  the  retreat  over  the  Passaic,  the  day  I  got  wounded.  A 
good  many  of  'em  with  fingers  so  frozen  they  couldn't  handle 
a  musket,  and  the  blood  from  their  bare  feet  tracking  the 
ground  as  they  marched;  and  yet  —  zounds!  (that  an't 
swearing,  mother)  —  do  you  suppose  one  of  us  would  have 
turned  our  back  on  the  enemy,  if  retreating  had  n't  just  then 
16* 


186  AGNES. 

been  the  only  way  to  conquer.  We  '11  give  it  to  'em  yet  — 
the  rascal  red-coats  !  " 

He  rose  from  the  lounge,  in  his  excitement,  and  his  hand 
some  face  kindled  and  flushed  with  eagerness. 

"Yet  you  told  us  some  on  'em  wanted  to  desart,"  said  his 
father. 

"  None  but  the  short-term  militia.  All  of  us  that  consider 
ourselves  in  for  the  war  are  above  such  trifles  as  being 
frozen  and  starved  to  death.  Gunpowder  and  lead  may 
finish  us,  but  nothing  else  will ! "  replied  Frank,  with  a 
laugh  of  defiance. 

" There  's  nothin'  like  spunk  — npthin'  in  this  world;  but, 
arter  all,  it  takes  somethin'  better  'n  spunk  to  keep  a  man 
straight,  through  sich  trials  as  you  tell  of,"  said  Mr.  Grey, 
thoughtfully ;  and  then,  as  he  glanced  out  of  the  window,  he 
added,  with  sudden  animation,  "  Look  there,  —  who  's  that 
comin'  down  the  hill?  Bless  my  soul,  it's  Percy!  What 
on  airth  brings  him  home  now  ?  " 

The  family  crowded  around  the  door,  in  some  anxiety,  as 
the  new  comer  entered. 

"Thee's  well?  Thee  is  n't  wounded,  Percy?"  asked  his 
mother,  as  his  manly  face  was  bent  down  to  hers. 

"  Well  —  and  happy,"  he  answered,  as  a  quick  glance  of 
'sympathy  and  confidence  passed  between  them. 

"But  how  came  you  here,  then?"  interposed  Frank. 
"  Was  the  General  anxious  for  my  health,  and  sent  you  to 
inquire  ?  Thank  you,  I  'm  convalescent.  Or,  was  you  afraid 
of  getting  the  gout  with  the  high  living  at  head-quarters,  and 


UNEXPECTED     MEETINGS.  187 

so  came  to  try  our  fine  salt  P's  for  a  few  days?  Or,  lastly, 
did  you  desert  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  from  New  York." 

"  From  New  York !  "  they  exclaimed  simultaneously,  and 
then  followed  a  multitude  of  questions,  in  reply  to  which  he 
gave  a  detailed  account  of  his  captivity  and  escape,  together 
with  his  previous  journey  to  Washington's  camp  on  the  Del 
aware. 

"  I  inquired  for  you  there,"  he  said  to  his  brother,  "  and 
heard  you  had  been  wounded.  How  did  it  happen  ?  " 

"  It  was  in  a  skirmish  the  day  we  crossed  the  Passaic. 
The  wound  is  nothing,  if  it  were  not  in  my  right  hand ;  but,  as 
I  was  useless  afterwards,  I  thought  I  'd  come  home,  for  a 
one-handed  Jack  might  be  of  some  service  in  a  lonesome 
place  like  this." 

There  was  a  touch  of  impatience  and  depression  in  his 
tone,  showing  how  his  proud  young  soirit  chafed  at  the  inac 
tion  to  which  he  was  condemned ;  but  the  expression  of  these 
feelings  passed  from  his  face  as  his  glance  wandered  involun 
tarily  to  the  low  seat  where  Agnes,  a  little  apart,  and  half 
forgotten,  had  listened  silently  to  their  protracted  conversa 
tion.  Her  work  had  fallen  to  the  floor,  and  her  head  leaned 
heavily  on  her  hand.  So  deep  was  her  revery  that  she 
hardly  seemed  to  breathe. 

"Agnes,  you  haven't  spoken  a  word  since  Percy  came. 
What  are  you  thinking  about?"  he  asked,  abruptly. 

She  started,  with  a  frightened  air,  and  half  turned  from 


188  AGNES. 

him,  pressing  her  hand  upon  her  heart,  as  if  she  feared  his 
eyes  might  see  its  hidden  workings. 

Mr.  Grey  noticed  the  action,  and,  moving  his  chair  nearer, 
laid  his  hand  upon  her  head.  "  Poor  cretur !  how  narvous 
you  be  !  "  he  said,  tenderly. 

"  0,  no !  I  was  tired  —  I  had  forgotten  where  I  was,"  she 
answered  quickly,  and  seized  her  work  with  a  confused 
manner. 

Mrs.  Grey  drew  it  from  her  hands,  and,  folding  it  up,  laid 
it  in  the  capacious  work-basket  by  her  side. 

"Thee's  done  enough  sewing  for  to-day,  my  child,"  she 
said,  quietly ;  and  her  husband  added,  "  There,  darter  — 
there,  lay  your  head  on  my  knee.  I  know  you  must  be 
tired." 

As  he  spoke,  his  large  hand,  brown  and  hardened  by  years 
of  toil,  with  a  touch  gentle  as  a  mother's  drew  her  head  to 
the  proffered  resting-place.  She  yielded,  with  a  delicious 
sense  of  comfort,  to  the  protecting  caress  ;  for  a  moment  the 
darkness  of  past  years  rolled  away,  and  the  light  of  that 
sacred  hearth-fire  gleamed  warm  over  her  soul. 

"  You  '11  get  stronger  by  the  time  spring  comes,  least-ways 
I  hope  so,"  continued  Mr.  Grey.  "  It 's  bad  to  be  so  sick  and 
weak  like,  an't  it,  now  ?  " 

She  looked  up  shyly,  while  a  smile  brightened  her 
eyes,  and  curved  her  pale  lips,  as  she  said,  ' '  0,  no,  it  is 
not  hard  to  be  sick  —  it  is  so  pleasant  to  be  taken  care 
of!" 

"You  think  BO,  darter  ?    S'pose  you  can  have  the  care  with- 


UNEXPECTED     MEETINGS.  189 

out  the  sickness, — won't  that  do  just  as  well  ?  I  tell  you,  this 
is  a  horrid  hard  world,  any  way,  and  when  a  body  comes  to 
be  sick,  it  does  make  it  bad  —  master  !  " 

A  sort  of  shudder  thrilled  over  Agnes'  whole  frame,  and, 
unconsciously,  in  a  low  tone,  she  repeated, 

"  A  hard  world !  0,  yes,  a  dreadful,  dreadful  world !  " 

The  group  around  the  fire  looked  at  each  other  a  moment 
in  silence,  for  the  pathos  of  her  voice  was  irresistible.  Then, 
bending  towards  her,  Frank  said,  impulsively, 

"  Cannot  we  help  you  ?  Agnes,  you  have  never  told  us 
one  word  about  your  troubles,  or  sufferings.  You  have  been 
here  four  months.  Cannot  you  trust  us  yet  ?  " 

The  girl  sprang  to  her  feet  with  a  faint  cry,  half  of  defi 
ance  and  half  of  fear.  She  saw  the  kind  eyes  fixed  upon  her 
with  far  more  of  pity  than  of  curiosity,  she  remembered  all 
she  owed  to  the  family  who  had  sheltered  her,  and  her  bosom 
heaved  with  a  mighty  gush  of  gratitude  and  love. 

"  Some  time  I  will  tell  you  all,  but  not  here  —  not  thus  — 
not  now.  Indeed,  I  cannot  now  !  "  she  said,  humbly,  in  a 
stifled  voice,  and  glided  like  a  shadow  from  the  room. 

"  Is  this  true  ?  Have  you  learned  nothing  of  her  history  ?  " 
asked  Percy,  in  astonishment,  when  the  door  had  closed. 

"  Nothing  —  not  a  word,"  said  his  father.  "  Somehow  I 
could  n't  ever  make  up  my  mind  to  ask  sich  a  little  delicate 
cretur  anything  she  did  n't  want  to  tell ;  and  if  I  ever  tried  to, 
she  looked  at  me  so  out  o'  them  great  eyes  o'  her'n,  that  I 
shut  up  in  a  minute,  mum  as  a  beetle.  Marm  an  t  done  no 
better,  though  I  thought,  maybe,  bein'  a  woman,  she  might." 


190  AQNES. 

"  I  never  felt  moved  to  ask  her,"  said  Mrs.  Grey,  in  an 
swer  to  her  son's  inquiring  look. 

"  And  yet  the  world  is  agreed  that  woman  is  a  synonyme 
for  curiosity,"  said  Percy,  half  laughing.  "  Who  would  have 
believed  this  ?  Mother,  I  always  knew  you  were  more  per- 
fest  than  ordinary  mortals,  and  now  you  have  proved  you  are 
no  descendant  of  Eve." 

"  It  was  a  great  mistake  not  putting  her  in  the  garden  of 
Eden,  instead  of  that  heedless  young  lady  who  liked  apples  so 
well,"  added  Frank.  "  What  trouble  it  would  have  saved 
the  world !  When  the  serpent  came  hopping  up  to  her  on  the 
tip  of  his  tail,  and  made  a  most  persuasive  curve  to  offer  to 
eScort  her  to  the  tree,  she  would  have  put  on  her  most  dig 
nified  manner,  and  said,  '  No,  I  thank  thee.  There 's  no 
occasion.'  I  can  see  just  how  she  'd  do  it." 

"Hush,  Frank!"  said  his  mother,  smiling,  with  a  faint 
blush.  "  I  am  free  to  own  that  I  am  curious  in  this  matter  ; 
but,  as  father  says,  her  eyes  have  great  power,  and,  gentle  as 
she  is,  and  soft  in  tone  and  manner,  she  maintains  her  reserve 
as  well  as  those  who  seem  better  able  to  do  so.  I  could  not 
ask  what  I  knew  she  did  not  wish  to  tell." 

"  Her  apparent  helplessness  and  her  childish  air  is  a  strong 
appeal  to  your  forbearance,  and  perhaps  she  is  aware  of  it," 
said  Percy,  thoughtfully. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  it  is  assumed  for  a  purpose?"  retorted 
Frank,  in  an  angry  tone.  "  She  is  as  guileless  as  an  infant, 
and  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  for  doubting  her  J  " 


UNEXPECTED     MEETINGS.  191 

"  My  dear  boy,  did  I  say  I  doubted  her?"  replied  Percy, 
in  surprise. 

"  Four  words  implied  it." 

"And  what  if  they  did?  May  I  not  say  what  1  think? 
Why  are  you  HO  offended  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  stranger,  and  has  no  friends,  and  it  is  unmanly 
and  cruel  to  suspect  her,"  answered  Frank,  and  then  suddenly 
left  the  room,  as  if  ashamed  of  the  irritation  he  had  betrayed. 
The  old  farmer  opened  his  eyes  wide,  and,  with  an  emphatic 
whistle,  looked  at  his  wife,  saying, 

"  Why,  mother,  is  that  the  way  the  land  lays  ?  " 

"  I  never  dreamed  of  it  before,"  she  answered,  "  and  even 
now  arn  inclined  to  think  it  was  only  the  pain  of  his  wound 
which  made  him  speak  so.  It  is  a  bad  wound,  Percy,  and 
will  take  a  long  time  to  heal,  though  he  won't  allow  me  to  tell 
him  so." 

"  Poor  Frank  !  But  this,  mother,  will  be  worse  than  any 
gun-shot  wound,  if  we  don't  have  a  care  of  it.  I  don't  want 
to  judge  Agnes  harshly,  but  I  must  say  it  is  strange,  if  she 
has  been  only  unfortunate,  that  she  is  not  willing  to  confide  in 
you,  after  all  your  kindness  to  her.  It  would  be  a  pity  for 
Frank  to  become  entangled  thus.  We  ought  to  know  some 
thing  of  her  history." 

Percy  spoke  slowly,  thinking  less,  at  that  moment,  of  hia 
brother  and  Agnes,  than  of  the  fact  that  Frank's  wife  must 
}>".  a  companion  and  friend  to  the  pure  and  peerless  Evelyn 
Chester.  Happiness  oftener,  perhaps,  than  misery,  inclines 
man  to  selfishness.  There  was  a  slight  pause,  and  then  Mrs. 


192  AGNES. 

Grey's  quiet  tones  aroused  him  from  the  slight  revery  into 
which  he  had  fallen. 

"  '  Charity  thinketh  no  evil,'  "  she  said. 

"  I  do  not  deserve  that  reproof,"  he  answered,  quickly,  "  for 
my  advice  was  but  the  suggestion  of  common  prudence.  But 
you  are  so  secluded  here,  that  things  do  not  seem  to  you  as 
to  one  who  has  mingled  with  the  world." 

"  Thee  says  truly,  my  son,"  she  replied,  "  but  there  is  an 
inward  light  which  shines  brightest  outside  the  circle  thee 
calls  the  world.  Those  who  follow  it  seldom  find  themselves 
bewildered." 

"  If  intuitions  may  ever  be  trusted,  surely  you  can  rely 
upon  yours,"  said  Percy,  looking  fondly  at  his  mother. 

"  In  this  case  I  think  I  may,  without  fear.  I  can  imagine 
many  reasons  for  Agnes'  silence  besides  the  one  at  which 
thee  hinted.  She  has  doubtless  met  with  so  much  harshness 
and  coldness  before  she  came  here,  that  she  fears  to  tell  a 
story  which  she  has  no  means  of  substantiating.  Be  that  as 
it  may,  I  shall  not  seek  to  compel  confidence,  if  I  am  unable 
to  win  it,  and  surely  thee  can  trust  thy  brother's  honor  and 
discretion.  Frank  will  do  no  wrong  to  his  family." 

"  Well,  now,  I  tell  you,"  said  Mr.  Grey,  "  the  gal  is  a  good 
gal,  you  may  depend  upon  it,  Percy.  Sich  a  face  as  her'n 
don't  cover  a  bad  heart.  Bless  her  soul !  she  's  innocent  as  a 
baby,  and  I  love  her  most  like  she  was  one  o'  my  own  that 's 
layin'  cold  and  dead  this  many  a  year  under  the  apple-trees." 

Mrs.  Grey  arose,  and,  putting  away  her  work,  began  to 
make  preparations  for  tea ;  and  Agnes,  hearing  these  culinary 


UNEXPECTED     MEETINGS. 

sounds,  returned  to  the  kitchen.  Her  eyes  bore  traces  of 
tears,  and  her  movements  were  nervous  and  tremulous ;  but, 
as  he  watched  her  graceful  form  passing  to  and  fro  through 
the  room  in  eager  helpfulness,  and  the  quick  play  of  her  feat 
ures  as  varying  emotions  swept  over  them,  Percy  ceased  to 
wonder  at  the  charm  which  had  wrought  so  powerfully  on  the 
other  members  of  the  household. 

For  Agnes  was  not  always  abstracted  and  sad.  Sometimes 
from  a  desire  to  divert  the  attention  and  pity  she  had  attracted 
by  moments  of  gloom,  sometimes  from  the  irrepressible  up- 
bounding  of  a  youthful  nature  originally  joyous  as  a  bird's,  she 
had  hours  of  cheerfulness  and  gentle  gayety.  This  evening,  lest 
she  should  damp  the  pleasure  of  the  family  circle,  she  exerted 
herself  to  talk  and  to  listen  with  interest.  Smiles  hovered 
around  her  lips,  and  her  low,  silvery  laugh  joined  the  mirth 
occasioned  by  Frank's  witticisms.  But  when,  at  the  prayer 
with  which  this  Christian  farmer  always  closed  the  day,  Mr. 
Grey  besought,  with  more  than  usual  fervor,  for  a  blessing 
upon  "the  stranger  within  their  gate,"  he  who  had  joined 
most  heartily  in  the  petition  heard  with  yearning  sympathy 
the  low  sigh  breaking  from  her  lips,  and  the  faintly-breathed 
exclamation,  "  0,  bless  me  —  pity  me  —  let  me  die  !  " 

When  all  the  others  had  retired,  Percy  and  his  mother 
remained  a  long  time  sitting  in  quiet  converse  before  the 
embers.  The  flickering  light  shone  over  them,  and  revealed 
their  faces  fitfully  to  each  other.  Candles  were  luxuries 
too  expensive  to  be  allowed  when  they  could  be  dispensed 
with,  but  Percy  was  rather  glad  than  sorry  for  this  poverty 
17 


194  AGNES. 

now.  The  snow-storm  had  changed  to  rain,  which  fell  in 
heavy  showers,  filling  up  the  pauses  of  talk  with  its  dull  mon 
otone  ;  and,  with  such  an  accompaniment,  and  the  favoring 
gloom  of  the  shadows  filling  the  room,  he  could  unfold  all  his 
past  fears  and  his  present  hopes  to  the  true  maternal  heart 
that  throbbed  with  a  love  so  pure  and  deep. 

With  the  first  beams  of  morning  Percy  awoke.  He  was 
impatient  to  pursue  his  way  to  the  camp,  and  when  he  de 
scended  the  stairs  was  glad  to  find  breakfast  nearly  ready. 
Having  eaten  it  in  some  haste,  and  put  on  the  warm  gar 
ments  which  were  rendered  necessary  by  a  freezing  change  in 
the  weather,  he  bade  a  cheerful  good-by  to  home,  and,  with 
his  brother,  who  signified  his  intention  of  accompanying  him  a 
short  distance,  set  out  on  the  journey.  They  had  walked 
only  two  or  three  miles,  when,  upon  reaching  the  brow  of  a 
hill  overlooking  an  extent  of  level  country,  they  heard  a  faint 
reverberation,  which  caused  them  simultaneously  to  stop  and 
listen.  In  a  few  moments  it  came  again,  louder  than  before. 

"  It  is  —  it  is  cannon  firing!"  exclaimed  Percy.  "They 
are  surely  fighting  !  0,  if  I  were  only  there !  What  would  n't 
I  give  at  this  moment  for  wings  ?  " 

"  Wings  !  you  could  n't  fly,  if  you  had  them.  Why  don't 
you  wish  for  something  more  reasonable  ?  A  horse,  now, 
would  be  worth  a  dozen  pair  of  wings." 

"  '  My  kingdom  for  a  horse ! '  "  replied  Percy,  laughing. 
"  But  I  don't  see  as  I  am  much  more  likely  to  get  this  wish 
than  the  other." 

"  Perhaps  you  won't,"  said  Frank;  "but,  if  I  wanted  it, 


UNEXPECTED     MEETINGS.  195 

there  'd  be  fifty  chances  to  beg,  borrow,  or  steal  one,  before  I 
was  an  hour  older.  It 's  my  luck.  I  always  get  what  I 
want." 

"  You  'd  better  set  yourself  resolutely  to  wish  for  one  on 
my  account,  then.  0,  if  I  were  but  there !  To  think  that  I 
should  have  consumed  a  week  in  escaping  from  New  York,  — 
and  now  I  shalL  lose  this  battle  !  " 

It  was  not  often  that  Percy  manifested  his  emotions  or 
desires  by  words,  and  Frank  heard  with  surprise  these  expres 
sions  of  impatience. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  he  exclaimed,  "  if  you  want  a  horse  so 
much,  you  shall  have  one.  Trust  my  luck !  we  '11  find  one 
before  long." 

Even  while  he  was  speaking,  as  if  to  verify  his  confidence 
in  fortune,  from  a  cross-road  they  were  approaching  came  the 
rumbling  of  wheels,  and  the  sound  of  boyish  voices  singing  a 
ballad  just  then  in  fashion  among  the  Tories  of  Jersey.  The 
verse  which  the  brothers  heard,  as  they  came  nearer,  was  as 
follows : 

"When  Congress  sent  great  Washington, 
All  clothed  with  power  and  breeches, 
To  meet  old  Britain's  warlike  sons, 
And  make  some  rebel  speeches, 

"  Full  many  a  child  went  into  camp 
All  dressed  in  homespun  kersey, 
To  see  the  greatest  rebel  scamp 
That  ever  crossed  o'er  Jersey." 

<  Hallo,  there,  you  young  rascals  !  —  stop  that !  "  shouted 


196  AGNES. 

Frank,  as  the  team  came  from  behind  the  trees.  The  singer 
obeyed  in  some  trepidation,  as  he  saw  the  two  men  placing 
themselves  so  as  to  hinder  his  further  progress. 

He  was  a  lad  of  about  twelve  years,  accompanied  by  one 
still  younger,  who  nestled  in  a  load  of  hay,  drawn  by  two 
stout  horses.  The  elder  boy  held  the  reins,  and,  though  con 
siderably  alarmed  at  the  unceremonious  strangers,  continued 
to  urge  the  animals  forward  with  voice  and  whip.  Percy 
had  seized  one  of  them  by  the  head,  and  was  holding  him 
firmly,  thinking  what  bargain  he  should  make  to  obtain  him, 
when  Frank  exclaimed, 

"  My  luck  against  the  world  !  This  is  our  very  old  John, 
that  fell  into  the  snare  of  the  wicked,  and  was  taken  by  the 
Britishers  the  day  our  house  was  ransacked !  Take  him  out 
of  the  traces,  Percy,  and  away  with  you !  " 

It  was  even  as  he  said,  and  the  horse  gave  unmistakable 
signs  of  joy  at  recognizing  his  young  masters.  In  another 
moment  his  harness  was  off,  a  piece  of  the  reins  taken  for  a 
bridle,  a  strip  of  woollen  cloth  they  found  under  his  collar 
was  strapped  around  for  a  saddle,  and  Percy,  delighted  beyond 
measure,  sprang  upon  his  back. 

-  "  There,  now !  an't  I  as  good  as  a  fairy  godmother  ?  Is 
there  anything  else  you  'd  like  ?  You  Ve  only  to  speak,  you 
know.  I  would  n't  have  you  think  my  capacity  is  only  of  one 
horse  power  !  "  said  Frank,  gleefully. 

Percy  laughed,  and  shook  his  head.  "  Moderation  is  a 
virtue  at  all  times  —  and  so,  good-by.  If  I  get  more  than 
my  share  of  glory,  I  '11  give  you  half!  " 


UNEXPECTED     MEETINGS.  197 

All  this  had  passed  in  a  few  moments,  and  the  boys  were 
too  much  bewildered  to  interfere.  But,  now  comprehending 
their  loss,  they  began  to  whimper. 

"  Pa  '11  gin  it  to  you !  —  Pa  and  uncle  is  just  behind,  and 
they  '11  gin  it  to  you  two  fellers,  if  you  run  off  with  our 
hoss!" 

••  It  happens  to  be  our  own,"  said  Frank,  as  Percy  galloped 
away,  "  and  I  'm  going  to  have  you  two  '  fellers '  hung  for 
horse-stealing ! " 

"  'T  an't  your'n,  nuther  !  "  retorted  the  boy,  looking  fright 
ened.  "  Pa  bought  it  of  a  sojer,  more  'n  two  months  ago, 
down  to  Brunswick ;  and  you  jest  wait  and  see  what  he  '11  do 
to  you  when  he  gets  here  —  pa  and  uncle  !  Won't  they  pitch 
into  you  ?  You  won't  know  nothin'  where  you  be !  You 
just  wait !  " 

"  Thank  you,  my  young  friend,"  replied  Frank,  taking  off 
his  hat,  with  mock  gravity.  "  No  doubt  patience  is  commend 
able,  and  so  are  prudence,  and  perseverance,  and  patriotism, 
and  perfection,  and  several  other  things  that  begin  with  the 
same  letter ;  but  I  think,  if  you  tell  the  truth  about  your 
respected  '  pa,'  pedestrianism  would  become  me  better  than 
patience,  and  I  shall  wait  no  longer.  Present  my  compli 
ments,  if  you  please,  and  say  the  horse  could  n't  have  been 
sent  home  at  a  better  time,  and  we  '11  send  in  our  bill  for  the 
use  of  him  two  months." 

"Pa '11  gin  it  to  you  —  you  mister!"  said  the  boy,  from 
khe  top  of  the  hay-cart,  a  little  awed  by  such  an  unusual 
address.  "  I  hear  him  a  comin'  now,  and  he  '11  gin  it  to  you, 
17* 


198  AGNES. 

a  takin'  away  our  hoss !  Pa,  hurry !  here  's  a  feller  a  stealin* 
our  hoss ! " 

Frank  sprang  lightly  up  the  hill,  and  when  he  was  out  of 
sight  turned  into  a  by-path  leading  through  the  woods  to  a 
spring  much  used  by  the  teamsters  familiar  with  that  locality. 

From  thence,  stepping  on  bare  logs  and  patches  of  frozen 
ground,  that  his  footsteps  might  not  be  traced  by  the  vindic 
tive  "  pa,"  who  he  doubted  not  was  in  hot  pursuit,  he  gained 
the  thick  forest,  and,  directing  his  course  by  the  sun,  came  at 
length  into  a  narrow  valley,  about  a  mile  from  his  father's 
house. 

Following  this  to  its  termination,  he  found  himself  in  a  hol 
low  or  depression  among  the  hills,  nearly  circular,  and  con 
taining  a  small  pool.  This  was  now  covered  with  thin  blue 
ice,  except  in  one  spot  where  the  living  springs  that  fed  it 
poured  out  their  surplus  of  water  in  a  stream  that  ran  a  little 
way,  and  was  soon  lost  beneath  the  snow.  Over  this  opening 
a  willow  threw  its  pendulous  branches,  and  a  few  evergreens 
reared  their  dark  spires  beside  it;  but  the  remainder  of  the 
basin  was  destitute  of  trees,  although  the  growth  on  the  sur 
rounding  elevation  was  thicker  than  usual.  In  a  line  from 
the  copse,  a  path  might  be  traced  to  a  low  hut  half-way  up 
the  hill  opposite  to  where  Frank  stood ;  and  as  he  hesitated 
whether  to  pursue  his  way  homeward,  or  to  stop  for  a  few 
moments'  chat  with  its  inmates,  the  curtain  which  served  for 
a  door  was  withdrawn,  and  Lawontica  came  out,  bearing  in 
her  hand  an  earthen  pitcher  she  wished  to  fill  at  the  spring. 

In   arranging  her   dress,  she   had    modified  the  national 


UNEXPECTED     MEETINGS.  199 

costume  with  some  ideas  derived  from  her  white  neighbors, 
and  the  effect  was  highly  picturesque.  She  wore  a  jacket, 
shaped  much  like  the  modern  basque,  made  of  red  cloth,  with 
close  sleeves,  trimmed  around  with  the  soft  fur  of  the  silver- 
gray  fox,  and  ornamented  on  the  breast  by  a  large,  oval  silver 
plate,  that  served  as  a  fastening.  From  beneath  this  a  skirt 
of  dark  cloth  came  down  nearly  to  her  ankles,  leaving  visible 
leggins  also  trimmed  with  fur,  and  well-shaped  feet  covered 
with  embroidered  moccasins.  Around  her  bare  throat  were 
strings  of  bright-colored  beads,  and  on  her  head  was  placed 
jauntily  a  conical  cap  of  wolf-skin,  adorned  by  a  knot  of  gay 
plumes.  Her  abundant  hair,  black  and  glossy  as  jet,  fell 
loosely  around  her  ears,  partly  shading  the  cheeks,  and  was 
gathered  behind  in  a  braid,  or  queue,  tied  with  broad,  scarlet 
trimming. 

She  came  forward,  not  with  her  usual  swift,  springing  step, 
but  thoughtfully,  and  at  a  lagging  pace,  as  if  her  thoughts 
were  little  in  accordance  with  the  brilliant  sunshine,  and  the 
clear,  bracing  air.  She  had  not  been  at  the  farm-house  for 
some  days,  and  Frank,  fearing  she  might  have  been  ill,  was 
about  to  join  her  and  make  inquiries,  when  he  perceived  some 
one  moving  from  behind  the  willow  as  she  entered  the  copse. 
Curious  to  know  who  it  was,  he  stood  still  to  see  a  short  pan 
tomime  that  interested  him  greatly. 

Lawontica,  apparently  unconscious  of  observation,  had 
reached  the  willow,  when  a  tall  Indian,  completely  tricked 
out  in  savage  finery,  came  forward,  and,  half  kneeling,  laid  at 
her  feet  a  bundle  of  choice  furs  tied  between  the  branching 


200  AGNES. 

antlers  of  a  deer.  The  girl,  who  was  doubtless  not  wholly 
taken  by  surprise,  without  the  slightest  start  or  exclamation, 
pushed  them  scornfully  aside  with  the  point  of  her  moccasin, 
and  stepped  by  them  with  regal  hauteur,  without  deigning  a 
glance  at  the  suppliant.  But  he  stretched  out  one  arm  to 
detain  her,  and,  raising  the  other  in  a  beseeching  gesture, 
spoke  a  few  words  in  their  native  tongue.  She  did  not 
change  her  attitude,  a  little  in  advance  and  half  turned  from 
him,  but  Frank  saw  her  lips  move  in  reply. 

Again  there  was  a  supplicating  motion,  and  the  skins  were 
placed  before  her.  She  paused  a  moment,  and  then  set  one 
foot  lightly  on  them.  Her  companion  was  evidently  gratified 
even  at  this  disdainful  reception  of  his  offering.  Clasping 
his  hands  and  spreading  them  out  again,  pointing  now  to 
Sanoso's  hut,  and  now  to  the  forest  before  them,  he  seemed 
entreating  her  to  grant  some  boon,  which  she  for  a  long  time 
refused,  with  slight  gestures  of  vexation.  Yet  still  she  lis 
tened,  with  her  head  a  little  bent,  her  eyes  cast  down,  one 
hand  raised,  and  the  fore-finger  pressed  against  her  lips,  while 
the  other,  holding  the  pitcher  carelessly,  hung  straight  by  her 
side,  and  her  foot  rested  more  firmly  on  the  bundle  of  skins. 
The  grace  and  the  intense  expression  of  her  figure  would  have 
charmed  a  sculptor. 

After  a  time,  the  Indian  seemed  to  weary  of  his  useless 
prayer  and,  rising  to  his  feet,  leaned  against  the  tree  with 
folded  arms,  and  an  air  both  sorrowful  and  angry.  Then,  for 
the  first  time,  she  turned  towards  him.  Frank  could  no 
longer  see  her  face,  but  she  seemed  to  talk,  and  he  to  listen 


UNEXPECTED     MEETINGS.  201 

and  reply  with  an  expression  of  surprise  or  perplexity,  not 
unmingled  with  eager  hope  and  joy.  The  dialogue  was  short. 
Lawontica  pointed  to  the  forest  and  waved  her  hand,  as  if  to 
bid  him  leave  her ;  and,  after  a  few  more  words,  he  obeyed. 

She  watched  him,  as  he  moved  away  with  a  firm  and  rapid 
footstep,  and  when  he  had  disappeared  turned  again  to  the 
spring,  and,  having  filled  her  pitcher,  set  it  down  on  the  mossy 
roots  of  the  tree.  Frank  was  approaching,  when  something 
in  her  attitude  arrested  him.  He  was  now  near  enough  to 
see  the  expression  of  her  features;  but,  excited  and  self- 
absorbed,  she  had  neither  seen  nor  heard  him. 

Supposing  herself  alone,  she  stood  for  a  moment,  her  face 
contracted  as  if  in  a  spasm  of  pain,  and  her  hands  clenched 
and  buried  in  the  hair  which  hung  over  her  temples.  Then, 
suddenly  giving  her  lover's  present  a  kick  more  vigorous 
than  graceful,  she  threw  herself  down  upon  a  bank  of  turf 
which  the  snow  had  left  bare  under  the  willow,  with  a  violence 
that  must  have  caused  serious  injury  to  one  less  hardy,  and 
lay  motionless,  except  that  her  frame  heaved  and  quivered,  as 
if  she  were  weeping  convulsively. 

Divided  between  curiosity  and  sympathy,  Frank  was  debat 
ing  whether  to  withdraw  unobserved,  or  to  make  her  aware 
of  his  presence  and  offer  his  aid  in  her  trouble,  when  she 
arose  to  a  sitting  posture,  and,  with  her  elbows  on  her  knees, 
and  one  hand  supporting  her  chin,  remained  quiets  looking 
moodily  into  the  water  at  her  feet.  Her  cap  had  fallen  off, 
her  dress  was  soiled  and  disarranged,  and  her  features  were 


202  A  G  N  E  3  . 

go  full  of  gloom  and  despair,  that  her  friend  could  no  longer 
forbear  an  attempt  to  ascertain  its  cause. 

She  heard  his  step,  and  looked  up ;  but,  perceiving  him, 
resumed  her  former  attitude,  shading  her  face  with  both 
hands,  and  shaking  the  heavy  locks  of  hair  over  her  brow,  so 
that  her  expression  was  hidden  from  view. 

"  What  can  be  the  matter  with  you,  Lawontica  ?  "  he  said. 
"  How  you  look  !  You  really  frighten  me.  What  has  hap 
pened  to  you  ?  " 

She  made  no  answer,  and  he  came  nearer,  laying  his  hand 
on  her  shoulder,  and  bending  down  so  that  he  could  hear  the 
few  words  she  muttered  to  herself. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  he  repeated.  "  I  have  n't  seen  you 
for  more  than  a  week.  Where  have  you  been  ?  Tell  me 
what  this  great  trouble  is.  Perhaps  I  can  help  you.  Poor 
girl !  how  you  have  been  crying ! " 

She  moved  impatiently  at  his  touch,  and  he  heard  a  sup 
pressed  sob  tremble  and  die  away  in  her  throat ;  but  when  he 
reiterated  his  inquiry  in  a  tone  even  more  anxious  than 
before,  she  jerked  her  shoulder  petulantly  from  beneath  his 
hand,  and,  looking  up,  uttered  some  Indian  words  in  an  angry 
tone.  Then  rising  to  her  feet,  she  put  back  her  dishevelled 
tresses,  and,  replacing  her  cap,  seized  the  pitcher,  as  if  about 
to  return  to  the  hut.  He  thought  she  was  offended  at  him 
for  intruding  upon  her  at  an  unguarded  moment,  and  said,  in 
a  tone  of  apology, 

"  Perhaps  I  should  not  have  spoken  to  you  just  now,  but 


UNEXPECTED     MEETINGS.  203 

you  seemed  to  be  in  so  much  trouble  I  could  n't  help  it.  Let 
me  carry  the  water  for  you !  " 

He  offered  to  take  it,  but  she  dashed  it  to  the  ground 
between  them;  her  cheeks  glowed,  her  limbs  quivered,  her 
eyes  seemed  really  to  flash  with  rage. 

"  Jigullahsy  !  jigidlahsy  noogoo  !  "  *  she  screamed,  stamp 
ing  her  foot.  "  You  come  here  too  much — too  much !  Very 
much  you  make  Indian  girl  fool !  " 

In  utter  amazement,  Frank  ejaculated,  "  What  do  you 
mean,  Lawontica  ?  What  have  I  done  ?  " 

But  she  replied  again  in  her  native  dialect,  as  if  sensible 
her  imperfect  English  could  but  poorly  express  the  emotions 
that  convulsed  her.  Frank  could  not  follow  her  rapid  utter 
ance,  and,  desirous  to  soothe  her,  refilled  the  pitcher,  and  said, 
cheerfully, 

"  Come,  let 's  go  see  Sanoso  !  I  am  sorry  I  offended  you, 
but  you  know  I  did  n't  mean  to  do  it.  Let  us  be  friends 
again ! " 

"  No,  no,  never  !  "  she  said,  fiercely.  "  White  mans  and 
Indian  no  be  friends  —  never !  Never  white  mans  mean  any 
good  to  Indian  girl !  " 

"  Why,  Lawontica,  this  is  beyond  all  reason  !  You  know 
better !  What  has  made  you  so  angry  ?  You  always  used 
to  like  me." 

"  No  like  you  any  more  —  hate  you  —  hate  you  !  "  she 
exclaimed,  with  a  gesture  of  defiance,  and  walked  swiftly 
away.  He  was  about  to  follow,  when  old  Sanoso  entered  tho 

*  Away  with  you  !  —  away  with  you,  this  moment ! 


204  AGNES. 

copse.  She  regarded  him  with  a  curious,  peering  gaze,  and 
then,  with  a  sigh,  looked  after  her  grandchild.  He  could  not 
tell  whether  she  had  been  witness  of  their  interview,  but  saw 
that  she  was  anxious  and  troubled.  She  would  have  taken 
from  him  the  burden  Lawontica  had  forgotten,  but  he  said, 

"  Let  me  take  it  to  the  wigwam  for  you,  and  here  is  a 
bundle  of  skins  I  will  take  with  it.  An  Indian  brought  them 
to  Lawontica,  and  she  has  been  having  a  terrible  time  here 
since.  She  is  angry  with  me  about  something.  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Ahkie !  O,  me  !  "  said  the  old  woman,  with  a  low  groan. 
"  Always  same  thing  when  folks  young  man,  young  woman. 
White  man,  Indian  —  all  same  thing!  Sanoso  no  want  'um 
you  carry  these.  Me  take  um  'lone  to  wigwam.  Maybe, 
pappoose*  no  want  'um  you  come  there  any  more." 

"  You  certainly  won't  banish  me  —  me,  that  you  have 
known  ever  since  I  was  a  boy !  You  won't  tell  me  I  must  not 
come  here  again !  "  said  Frank,  more  and  more  surprised  and 
perplexed. 

Sanoso  seemed  confused,  but  persisted  in  refusing  to  allow 
him  to  help  her,  and,  in  reply  to  his  questions,  kept  repeating, 

"  Some  time,  maybe,  me  tell  'um  you.  Now  you  go.  You 
mother,  ve'y  much  het  wonder  you  an't  gone  quick !  " 

He  had  no  choice  but  to  obey  her,  and  reluctantly  pursued 
his  way  homeward,  cogitating  with  much  solicitude  over  the 
events  of  the  morning. 

*  The  child.  f  The  Indian  seldom  used  the  feminine  pronoun. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

"  MANY   A    SLIP  'TWIXT   CUP   AND   LIP." 

THE  sound  of  cannon,  an  echo  of  which  had  reached  Percy 
Grey  upon  the  hill-top,  proceeded  from  the  battle  of  Trenton, 
at  that  hour  in  progress.  Every  one  remembers  the  brilliant 
counter-stroke,  by  which,  when  all  seemed  lost,  and  Corn- 
wallis  vaunted  over  his  wine  of  having  "  bagged  the  fox," 
Washington  extricated  his  army  from  impending  destruction, 
and  forced  the  enemy  to  retire. 

Stimulated  by  joy  at  his  unexpected  prize,  and  eager  to 
reach  the  scene  of  action,  Percy  urged  the  horse  forward  at 
his  fastest  pace.  The  rain  of  the  previous  night  had  washed 
away  the  snow,  and  a  succeeding  change  of  temperature  had 
frozen  the  roads  solid  as  iron,  so  they  were  in  fine  order  for 
travel ;  and,  guided  by  inquiries,  and  by  a  soldier's  instinct, 
he  pursued  the  most  direct  route,  and  came  to  Stony  Brook 
just  as  the  army  had  crossed  it,  and  were  proceeding  to  break 
down  the  bridge.  A  few  words  of  explanation  from  his 
brother-officers  assured  him  they  were  retiring  from  a  victory, 
and  not  from  a  defeat;  and,  with  new  confidence  and  hope, 
18 


206  AGNES. 

they  pushed  on  toward  Pluckemin,  where  it  had  been  deter 
mined  to  halt  for  the  night. 

The  men  had  fought  like  heroes,  but  never  were  mortals 
more  footsore  and  exhausted  than  they  who  that  evening 
thronged  the  houses  of  this  small  village.  Many  of  them,  too 
weary  to  wait  for  food,  asked  only  a  place  to  rest,  and  regain 
the  sleep  they  had  lost  through  three  toilsome  nights.  Others, 
rejoiced  at  the  unaccustomed  luxuries  of  shelter,  warmth,  and 
a  plentiful  supper,  lingered  around  the  firesides  where  they 
had  been  made  welcome,  alternately  talking  and  sleeping. 

Gen.  Washington  was  himself  nearly  worn  out  with  the 
long  tension  of  anxiety  and  excitement  through  which  he  had 
passed,  but  did  not  rest  until  he  had  personally  inspected  the 
condition  of  the  wounded,  and  been  assured  that  his  well-tried 
troops  were  made  comfortable.  Then  he  rejoined  his  staff  at 
a  house  where  they  had  found  lodging.  It  was  near  a 
tavern,  where  other  officers,  and  many  of  the  soldiers,  were 
crowded  in  small  but  decent  apartments. 

Percy  joined  this  party,  and,  after  a  homely  and  jovial 
supper,  in  which  the  hostess  of  the  inn  expended  all  her  skill, 
they  retired  early  to  their  closely-packed  dormitory.  Percy 
had  not  endured  the  fatigue  that  made  his  comrades  sleep  so 
soundly,  and  he  was  awakened  long  before  daylight  by  visions 
of  one  far  away.  He  listened  a  while  to  the  nasal  chorus 
around  him,  and  then  arose  to  seek  the  fresh  air  outside  the 
house. 

He  groped  his  way  down  stairs  to  the  kitchen,  and  pushed 
open  the  door.  The  soldiers  lay  in  various  positions  all  over 


"MANY   A   SLIP     'TWIXT   CUP   AND    LIP."  207 

the  floor,  and  around  the  fireplace  opposite  a  group  were 
sitting  half  asleep  over  the  dying  embers.  An  awkward- 
looking  youth,  with  cheeks  distended,  and  mouth  close  to  the 
ashes,  was  trying  to  puff  into  greater  activity  a  little  flame 
that  flickered  up  the  chimney,  but  scarcely  lighted  its  cavern 
ous  depths.  Bottles  and  mugs  that  stood  on  a  table  near 
showed  how  they  had  been  consoling  themselves  for  former 
privations. 

"  Yes,  I  did;  I  fired  the  six-pounder,  and  brought  'em  all 
to  a  halt — I  did!  "  said  the  youth,  intermitting  his  efforts, 
and  looking  up,  as  if  in  reply  to  something  which  had  been 
said  by  a  man  who  sat  in  the  corner  near. 

"  You  did  ?  —  Likely  story  that  is !  "  said  the  person 
addressed,  in  an  incredulous  tone. 

"  Yes,  I  did  !  "  replied  his  companion.  "  I  was  comin' 
'long,  skulkin'  behind  the  trees,  so  as  to  keep  out  o'  the  shot, 
an'  I  see  'em  comin',  an',  thinks  I,  them  Britishers ''11  catch 
'em,  arter  all.  Then  I  sees  the  gun  you  left  there,  an'  I  hap 
pens  to  think  what  a  fust-rate  chance  't  would  be  to  pepper 
'em  unexpected-like,  when  they  was  n't  lookin',  an'  so  I 
touched  her  off.  My  eyes !  did  n't  she  speak  ?  How  I 
laughed  when  I  see  'em  halt  an'  send  a  man  to  look  an'  see 
who  was  there !  Reckon  they  thought  now  Gin'ral  Wash 
ington  and  all  the  Yankees  was  firing  off  that  'ere  cannon.  I 
jest  laid  and  laughed  to  think  't  wan't  nobody  but  me.  The 
feller  did  n't  come  near  enough  to  see  me,  an'  I  don't  believe 
he  '11  know  to  his  dyin'  day  who  fired  off  that  'ere  cannon." 

He  resumed  his  blowing,  and  his  listener  took  a  long  drink 


208  AGNES. 

at  a  leather  bottle  he  had  been  holding  beneath  his  nose,  as 
if  to  regale  one  sense  with  the  smell,  before  he  tickled  the 
Other  with  the  taste.  Then,  smacking  his  lips  heartily,  he 
ejaculated, 

"  Well,  you  're  a  pretty  green  one,  to  put  a  whole  regiment 
to  flight  the  first  shot  you  fire;  but,  if  your  story's  true, 
you  ought  to  be  promoted ;  for,  if  they  'd  come  up  with  us,  I 
don't  know  how  we  could  have  fought  'em.  We  'd  used  our 
selves  up,  and  there  was  n't  any  fight  left  in  us.  Come,  boy, 
let 's  have  a  song.  If  you  're  going  to  be  a  soldier,  you  must 
learn  to  sing ;  "  and,  with  a  clear,  musical  voice,  he  trolled 
forth, 

"  We  came,  we  fought,  but  could  not  beat, 
And  so  we  sounded  a  retreat  ; 
On  Roxbury  Hill  again  we  saw  em, 
An'  did  like  old  Nick  clapper-claw  'em. 
Tirra,  lirra,  la  ! 

"  But  warlike  casuists  can't  agree, 
If  we  beat  them,  or  they  beat  we. 
We  swear  we  beat,  they  swear  we  lie, 
We  '11  tell  you  more  on  't  by  and  by. 

Tirra,  lirra,  la  !  " 

"  Hold  your  noise,  can't  you  ?  "  growled  one  of  the  sleepy 
ones,  with  an  oath,  as  the  singer  was  about  repeating  the  strain. 

"  Why,  man,  you  've  no  ear  for  music,  and  this  is  music 
and  philosophy  combined.  There  is  a  moral  to  it.  It  is  the 
two  sides  of  the  shield.  It  shows  the  difference  it  makes 
how  you  look  at  a  thing ;  —  it  shows  —  " 

'  It  '11  show  you  how  to  swallow  your  teeth  when  they  're 


"MANY   A    SLIP    'TWIXT    CUP   AND    LIP."  209 

knocked  down  your  throat,  if  you  don't  shut  your  mouth ! " 
interrupted  his  antagonist,  half  rising. 

"  0,  now,  don't! "  said  the  singer,  with  unruffled  good  tem 
per.  "  Did  n't  you  never  learn,  when  you  was  a  little  'un, 
that  '  you  should  never  let  your  angry  passions  rise  '  ?  Well, 
there,  now,  don't  be  mad!  Suppose  you  are  sleepy;  and  may 
be  I  shall  be  too,  to-morrow,  if  I  don't  turn  in.  Make  room 
for  me,  there,  and  I  '11  lay  down ;  and,  boy,  you' wake  me  when 
I  get  thirsty." 

"  How  shall  I  know  when  you  're  thirsty  ?  "  asked  the  boy. 

"  0,  I  shall  be  thirsty  whenever  you  wake  me,"  was  the 
reply ;  and,  still  hugging  his  bottle,  the  merry-hearted  and 
bibacious  soldier  composed  himself  to  quiet. 

Major  Grey  had  been  an  amused  witness  of  this  little  epi 
sode  as  he  stood  by  the  door ;  but  when  he  approached  the 
fire,  stepping  carefully  over  the  sleepers,  he  started  with  sur 
prise  as  the  boy  turned  to  him,  and  said, 

"  Here  's  a  warm  corner,  stranger,  if  you  're  cold.  They 
let  the  fire  all  go  out,  and  I  'm  nigh-about  froze,  for  them  ere 
pine  planks  an't  so  warm  as  one  o'  marm's  feather-beds.  G  ood 
enough  for  me,  too,  marm  would  say,  —  goin'  off  fightin'  agin 
my  lawful  king." 

"  Jem  Henderson  !  Surely,  I  am  not  mistaken?  You  are 
right  welcome  here,"  said  Percy,  grasping  his  hand. 

"  La,  now !  —  I  declare  if 't  an't  the  major,  safe  and  sound ! " 
was  the  reply.  "  Do  tell,  now,  how  you  got  on  arter  you 
left  me." 

"  It 's  rather  a  long  story,  but  you  shall  have  it  some  time. 
18* 


210  AGNES. 

Tell  me  first  if  you  suffered  any  for  your  share  in  my  escape, 
and  if  Mr.  Chester's  part  in  it  was  suspected." 

"  Not  a  mite  !  An'  the  joke  was,  that  when  they  took  me 
up  and  set  out  to  haul  me  over  the  coals,  the  old  'squire  came 
for'ard  and  give  me  a  character.  My  eyes  !  —  did  n't  I  laugh 
in  my  sleeves?  They  never  suspected  nothin',  and  all  they 
did  to  me  was  jest  to  turn  me  out  o'  that  infernal  jail,  —  and 
they  could  n't  hurt  my  feelin's  that  way." 

"  I  am  quite  relieved  to  hear  it.  And  they  are  quite  well, 
are  they  —  Mr.  Chester  and  his  daughter  ?  Did  they  know 
you  were  coming  here  ?  " 

At  this  question  there  was  a  change  in  Jem's  appearance, 
perceptible  even  in  the  dim  firelight  which  alone  relieved  the 
darkness  of  the  room.  The  broatl  grin  of  delight  gave  place 
to  an  expression  of  gloom,  and  he  wrung  his  hand  away  from 
his  questioner's  friendly  grasp  so  quickly,  that,  in  alarm,  he 
added, 

"  What  is  it  ?  What  has  happened  to  them  ?  Are  they 
in  any  trouble  ?  Have  you  any  message  for  me  ?  " 

"  My  eyes  !  "  said  Jem,  gruffly,  "  you  ask  a  feller  fifty 
questions,  and  then  get  scared  'cause  he  don't  answer  'em  all 
to  onc't.  I  left  'em  well  enough,  last  time  I  see  'em.  Marm 
got  so  scared  about  me,  that  I  could  n't  stand  it,  nohow ;  and 
so  I  stole  off,  a  day  or  two  arter  I  was  released,  and  left  New 
York  behind  me.  I  was  down  to  Millstone  Creek,  yesterday, 
and  see  the  fightin',  —  pretty  fightin'  'twas,  too.  I  fired  a 
cannon,  too,  right  at  the  Britishers.  I  could  n't  help  thinkin' 
what  marm  would  say,  if  she  knew  it.  Poor  marm  !  how  she 


"MANY   A   SLIP    'TWIXT    CUP    AND   LIP."  211 

must  a  took  on  when  she  knew  I  was  gone !  Was  n't  I  glad, 
though,  when  I  saw  somebody  put  a  shot  through  one  cocked 
hat?" 

"  Whose  was  it  ?  "  asked  Major  Grey,  secretly  uneasy  at 
this  evident  avoidance  of  the  subject  in  which  his  companion 
knew  he  was  most  interested. 

"  Somebody  that 's  lived  too  long  already  for  the  good  of 
his  soul.  'T  would  be  what  I  call  a  piece  o'  Christian  char 
ity  to  put  him  down  there  where  they  don't  have  cold  weather 
no  time  o'  year." 

"  Come,  let  us  take  a  walk,"  said  Percy,  abruptly,  seeing 
their  conversation  was  attracting  attention.  "  It  will  soon  be 
morning,  and  there  is  light  enough  now  to  show  us  our  way. 
We  cannot  talk  freely  here,  and  I  must  have  the  news  from 
New  York." 

"  You  go  to  walk,  if  you  need  exercise ;  I  Ve  stretched  my 
legs  enough,  these  last  two  days,"  retorted  Jem.  "  I  '11  stay 
here,  and  keep  the  fire  warm.  Don't  you  be  in  a  hurry  about 
the  news.  Folks  don't  always  know  what  they  're  doin'  when 
they  ask  for  news." 

"  If  you  have  any  letter,  or  any  message,  give  it  to  me 
at  once,"  said  Percy,  speaking  authoritatively,  in  a  low, 
anxious  tone.  The  boy,  after  fumbling  in  his  pockets,  drew 
forth  a  package  carefully  enveloped  in  paper,  and,  opening  it, 
gave  him  Evelyn's  letter. 

Percy  took  it  and  went  out,  without  any  more  questions. 
Impatient  as  he  had  been  a  moment  before,  he  was  now  half 
glad  that  in  the  uncertain  twilight  of  morning  he  could  not 


212  AGNES. 

trace  its  delicate  lines.  He  wished  for  time  to  face  this 
change,  to  meet  this  apprehended  sorrow  ;  and,  if  the  hope  he 
had  cherished  must  be  wrenched  from  his  heart,  he  would  pause 
yet  once  more  to  realize  its  blessedness,  —  to  recall  every  tone, 
and  look,  and  gesture,  of  their  last  brief  interview ;  to  remem 
ber  that,  whatever  unknown  trouble  the  folded  sheet  contained, 
it  was  a  message  from  the  lady  of  his  love.  Her  hands  had 
touched  it ;  her  soul  had  been  breathed  into  it ;  her  tears,  per 
chance,  had  fallen  over  it.  Beneath  the  very  stroke  of  doom 
he  lingered  to  seize  the  deliciousness  of  this  thought.  It  came 
of  his  perfect  trust  in  her,  of  his  noble  reliance  upon  her  truth. 
Whatever  he  was  doomed  to  bear  arose  from  the  pressure  of 
external  circumstances.  And  was  it  in  the  power  of  fate  now 
to  force  them  asunder?  Could  not  those  two  strong  young 
spirits  control  the  course  of  destiny,  and  shape  their  own 
path  through  life? 

Thinking  such  thoughts  as  these,  he  became  cheerful  and 
courageous.  As  he  walked  rapidly  along,  braced  by  the  keen 
morning  air,  he  clenched  his  hands  nervously,  and  laughed 
aloud  in  his  exuberant  self-reliance.  Nearly  a  mile  from  the 
village  a  high  hill  overlooked  the  valley,  and  thither  his  steps 
had  been  unconsciously  directed.  Upon  its  summit  a  grove 
of  fir-trees  threw  the  gloom  of  their  black  shadows  over  the 
snow,  now  flushed  and  ruddy  from  the  reflection  of  the  bright 
ening  east.  Just  without  their  circle  he  rested,  and,  turning 
wilfully  from  them,  gazed  upon  the  surrounding  landscape, 
and  forced  himself  to  observe  its  beauty.  The  letter,  which 
he  hud  thrust  unopened  into  his  vest,  still  lay  next  his  heart, 


"MANY  A   SLIP   'IWIXT   CUP  AND  LIP."  213 

and  there  was  a  magnetism  about  it  that  diffused  a  subtle 
warmth  over  his  whole  frame. 

An  icy  mist  the  previous  evening  had  turned  into  a  scene 
of  enchantment  all  the  homely  hill-sides,  with  their  stunted 
groves,  and  the  bushes  in  the  clearings,  and  the  low  farm 
houses,  and  the  long  reaches  of  unbroken  forest  sweeping  on 
to  the  horizon.  In  the  amber  light  of  that  early  hour,  each 
near  twig  and  bough  glistened  and  scintillated  from  the  thou 
sand  tiny  points  of  its  crystallized  sheathing,  while  the  fir- 
trees  hung  out  their  fleecy  banners  to  catch  the  radiance 
streaming  towards  them  from  between  bars  of  crimson  cloud, 
and  when  the  breeze  touched  them  showered  down  their  treas 
ures  in  light  wreaths,  which  the  golden  rays  permeated  and 
colored,  until  it  seemed  as  if  those  stalwart  children  of  earth 
were  casting  jewels  upon  her  snow-covered  grave. 

While  Percy  Grey  surveyed  the  scene  with  fascinated  eyes, 
the  sun  burst  through  the  portals  of  the  morning,  changing 
the  roseate  clouds  into  a  transparent  glory  of  purple  and 
amber,  and  darting  beams  of  fire  far  down  the  valley.  A 
small  stream,  half  hidden  by  its  crest  of  ice,  wound  sluggishly 
through  the  hamlet,  from  whence  a  thin  vapor  had  been 
rising,  twirling  in  the  fitful  wind,  waving  and  oscillating  as  it 
mounted  upward,  until  it  caught  the  sunshine ;  and  then,  with 
a  thrill  through  all  its  depths,  it  flushed  into  opaline  hues, 
and,  rolling  itself  together  in  fleecy  foldg,  soared  away  to  the 
sky. 

Standing  amid  that  primal  splendor,  breathing  that  vivify- 


214  AGNES. 

ing  air,  who  could  succumb  to  evil  ?  who  could  believe  in 
gloom  or  care? 

He  opened  the  letter,  and  read. 

Instinctively  he  had  retreated  within  the  fir-grove,  and  sat 
down  beneath  its  shadow.  The  paper  dropped  from  his  hands, 
and,  bowing  his  head  forward  until  his  face  was  hidden,  he 
remained  mute,  motionless,  and  cold.  His  courage,  his  hope, 
his  strength,  what  were  they  against  this  fearful  wrong? 

Lost,  lost  to  him  forever,  —  vanished  from  the  sphere  of  his 
life, — these  anguished  breathings  of  her  soul  the  last  recogni 
tion  of  the  tie  that  bound  her  to  him!  Yet  it  was  not  chiefly  of 
himself  or  his  own  loss  he  thought.  If  she  had  been  happy, 
he  might  have  learned  to  be  content.  But  what  a  life  was 
before  her !  He  could  almost  pray  that  the  Atlantic,  upon 
whose  billows  he  supposed  her  at  that  moment  to  be  tossing, 
might  bury  within  its  quiet  depths  the  care-worn  heart  that 
could  never  again  know  peace. 

Over  the  gleaming  sky  a  film  of  cloud  had  spread,  thicken 
ing  and  lowering  ominously ;  and  now  a  low,  shivering  wail 
came  from  the  fir-trees  as  the  rising  gusts  of  wind  struck 
through  them,  and  on  his  bent  form  the  snow-flakes  came 
down  like  ashes,  white  and  dead. 

He  lifted  up  his  face  at  the  chilling  touch,  and  g;ive  one 
glance  arottnd  him.  Where  was  the  brightness  he  had  seen? 
Where  was  the  hope  that  had  lit  his  life  ?  Had  they  not 
perished  together  in  a  moment?  Would  they  ever  return  ? 

Holding  his  cloak  about  him,  he  descended  the  hill.  His 
face  was  colorless,  but  his  step  was  firm.  His  love  had  been 


"MANY   A   SLIP   'TWIX.T    CUP   AND   LIP."  215 

unspoken  and  unknown  to  his  companions ;  his  suffering  must 
be  equally  silent  and  unshared. 

Within  the  village  the  drum  and  fife  sent  forth  their  stir 
ring  summons,  and  the  companies  were  forming.  As  he 
descended  the  hill  Percy  was  an  involuntary  witness  of  one 
of  those  painful  scenes  inseparable  from  a  conflict  partaking 
so  much  the  nature  of  a  civil  war.  From  a  small  cottage  by 
the  roadside  came  the  sound  of  voices  raised  in  entreaty  and 
expostulation  ;  and  as  he  passed,  the  door  was  flung  violently 
open,  and  a  young  man  stood  in  the  doorway  struggling  to 
retain  his  position,  as  if  some  one  had  forced  him  out.  An 
aged  woman  was  wringing  her  hands  and  weeping,  while  her 
husband,  whose  white  hairs  shamed  his  unnatural  rage,  shook 
his  fist  at  his  son,  with  taunts  and  reproaches. 

As  Percy  paused  an  instant,  he  heard  him  say,  sternly, 

"  Go,  and  never  show  your  face  here  again  !  —  Rebel !  — 
traitor  to  your  country  and  your  king !  —  begone,  begone !  " 

At  this  moment  the  mother  sprang  forward,  and,  throwing 
her  arms  around  her  son's  neck,  sobbed,  wildly, 

"  0,  my  boy,  my  poor  boy  !  don't  go  to  throw  your  life  away 
in  a  bad  cause!  Stay  with  your  old  father  and  me " 

But  her  husband  drew  her  away.  "  Let  him  go  !  "  he  said, 
with  bitterness.  "  What  does  he  care  for  us?  He  's  a  rebel 
against  his  king,  and  he  can't  be  expected  to  obey  his  parents. 
Let  him  go,  and  take  my  curse  with  him  !  " 

A  cry  of  horror  burst  from  the  young  man's  lips,  but  before 
he  could  speak  his  father  shut  the  door  and  locked  it.  He 
turned,  and,  finding  himself  not  alone,  rushed  rapidly  away. 


216  AGNES. 

Percy  had  recognized  him  as  a  volunteer  whose  bravery  was 
well  known  in  the  company  to  which  he  belonged.  Thus  was 
explained  the  violence  which  would  not  wait  for  apology,  or 
hope  for  repentance;  and  the  scene  he  had  witnessed  was 
probably  not  the  first  of  the  kind  that  had  tried  the  heart  of 
this  faithful  soldier  of  liberty.  There  were  many  such  divided 
families  during  the  war,  especially  in  Jersey,  where  the 
majority  of  the  inhabitants  were  zealous  royalists. 

As  Major  Grey  approached  the  tavern  where  he  had  passed 
the  night,  he  met  many  of  his  brother-officers,  and  on  the 
doorstep  stood  Jem  Henderson,  who  eagerly  accosted  him. 

"  See  here,"  he  said.  "  These  fellers  are  getting  ready  to 
march,  they  tell  me,  and  I  don't  seem  to  have  anything  pertic- 
'lar  to  do.  Now,  I  jest  wish  you  'd  get  me  out  a  commission 
to  be  your  valley  —  an't  that  what  they  call  'em  ?  I  '11  take 
care  o'  your  hoss,  and  do  sich-like  things,  you  know." 

"  I  '11  do  better  than  that  for  you,  Jem.  •  You  shall  have 
an  ensign's  commission  in  a  few  days.  You  're  a  brave 
fellow,  and  deserve  it  well ;  and  you  must  allow  me  to  do  what 

I  can  to  show  my  gratitude " 

•  "  Gratitude  be  hanged ! "  interrupted  Jem,  roughly,  blushing 
like  any  girl  at  these  praises.  "  Don't  you  s'pose  I  know 
what  I  'm  arter  ?  If  I  'd  a  wanted  to  carry  the  color,  I  'd 
said  so  right  out ;  but  I  don't,  you  see.  I  an't  quite  ready  to 
go  into  this  ere  blessed  war,  as  marm  calls  it.  I  'm  kind  o' 
feared  'twould  hurt  me  to  be  shot;  and,  though  I  didn't 
mind  runnin'  some  risk  to  please  Miss  Evelyn  and  get  you 
out  o'  that  cussed  hole,  it 's  a  mighty  sight  different  keepin'  in 


"MANY   A   SLIP   'TWIXT   CUP  AND   LIP."  217 

a  risk  all  the  time,  and  I  an't  no  notion  o'  doin'  it.  But  I  was 
tired  o'  bein'  mewed  up  there  in  York,  and  so  when  the  place 
got  too  hot  for  me  I  was  glad  to  clear  out,  and  now  I  want 
you  to  hire  me.  I  'm  a  fust-rater  for  taking  care  o'  hosses." 

"  I  'm  sure  I  should  be  glad  to  accept  your  offer,"  said 
Percy  ;  "  but  you  must  understand  that  I  am  poor,  and  a  ser 
vant  is  a  luxury  beyond  my  means." 

"  I  won't  be  no  burden  to  you,"  persisted  Jem.  "  I  can 
forage  for  myself  and  you  too.  I  like  you,  somehow,  and  I 
want  to  stay  with  you  a  spell.  When  I  can  better  myself  I 
will." 

"  Since  you  insist  upon  it,  you  shall  have  your  own  way," 
replied  Major  Grey.  "  I  'm  afraid  the  result  will  be  that  we 
shall  starve  together ;  but  what  I  have  I  will  share  with  you." 

"  You  may  do  your  own  starvin',"  said  Jem,  laughing.  "  I 
an't  no  genius  that  way.  Now  tell  me  where  your  hoss  is, 
and  arter  this  I  '11  take  care  of  him." 

"  I  '11  go  with  you  and  find  him,"  was  the  reply,  and  they 
went  towards  the  stables.  Jem  cast  many  an  anxious  glance 
at  his  companion's  face,  but,  with  rare  delicacy  of  feeling, 
refrained  from  any  reference  to  the  trouble  he  suspected,  and 
fancied  he  read  in  the  thoughtful  brow  and  compressed  lips. 

Most  of  the  prisoners  taken  in  battle  had  been  already  sent 
to  Philadelphia,  where  they  could  be  kept  in  greater  security ; 
but  those  most  severely  wounded  had  been  left  for  the  present 
in  farm-houses  near  the  scene  of  action,  or  were  to  be  taken 
to  Morristown,  only  twenty  miles  distant,  where  they  could 
receive  the  care  they  needed.  The  carriage  on  which  they 
19 


218  AGNES. 

were  conveyed,  though  a  rude  sledge,  was  the  only  available 
means  of  transportation ;  and  being  furnished  by  the  village 
people  with  straw  for  beds,  and  woollen  quilts,  they  were  in 
some  degree  protected  from  the  cold. 

Gen.  Washington  had  given  orders  that  none  of  the  severi 
ties  endured  by  his  own  soldiers  when  taken  prisoners  should 
be  retaliated  upon  those  who  fell  into  his  hands ;  and  one  of 
his  aids  now  stood  by  to  see  that  all  was  arranged  to  make 
the  journey  as  comfortable  as  circumstances  would  allow. 

They  had  been  laid  upon  the  hay  in  the  stable,  as  the 
softest  bed  the  place  afforded,  in  its  crowded  state.  As  Major 
Grey  and  his  companion  entered  the  door,  two  soldiers  came 
forth,  carrying  between  them  a  wounded  officer.  Turning 
back,  when  he  noticed  the  uniform,  he  said  to  the  aid, 

"This  must  be  a  person  of  rank.  Could  the  general  have 
known  he  was  so  poorly  accommodated?  " 

"  He  was  brought  in  late  last  night,  and  this  was  the  best 
we  could  do  for  him,"  was  the  reply. 

The  wounded  man  overheard  them,  and  began  to  swear  at 
his  lodgings,  at  the  pain  of  his  injuries,  and  finally  at  the 
clumsiness  of  his  bearers.  As  they  endeavored  to  lay  him 
on  the  sledge,  he  made  some  unexpected  movement,  which 
caused  one  of  the  men  to  lose  his  hold,  and  let  him  fall  to  the 
ground.  The  distance  was  not  great,  but  the  jar  caused  such 
keen  suffering  that  he  fainted. 

Percy  assisted  to  lay  him  on  his  bed,  and  administer  cor 
dials,  brought  by  the  surgeon  to  restore  consciousness.  While 
doing  so,  he  was  impressed  with  a  vague  memory  of  having 


MANY    A    SLIP    'TWIXT   CUP   AND    LIP.  219 

elsewhere  seen  those  bold,  handsome  features,  with  their  pecu 
liar  hauteur  and  magnetic  repulsiveness ;  yet,  his  cares  being 
ended,  he  might  have  thought  no  more  of  it,  had  not  Jem,  as 
he  led  up  the  horse,  asked  abruptly,  in  a  half-angry  tone, 

"  Do  you  know,  Major,  what  pesky  sarpent  you  've  been  a 
nussin'  there  ?  Did  you  ever  see  Col.  Stanley  ?  " 

"  Never,  but  once  —  what  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  exclaimed, 
starting,  as  if  from  a  dagger-thrust. 

"He's  the  cretur  you've  been  tendin'  there  so  careful! 
Blast  him  !  who  cares  whether  he  lays  easy  or  not  ?  " 

Jem's  honest  indignation  at  the  wrongs  he  knew,  and  those 
he  suspected,  found  great  relief  in  this  outburst ;  but  his 
hearer,  who  had  one  foot  in  the  stirrup,  reeled  giddily,  and 
caught  at  the  bridle  to  keep  himself  from  falling.  When 
the  momentary  blindness  had  passed,  he  said,  in  a  low,  stern 
voice,  like  one  who  is  insulted  by  the  thoughtless  proffer  of  a 
vain  hope, 

"  You  are  mistaken  —  you  must  be !  She  said  there  could 
be  no  change  effected ;  —  before  this  time  they  must  have  left 
this  country." 

"That  was  Col.  Stanley,  though.  Think  I  don't  know 
him?  If  't  would  hurt  his  feelings  any,  I  'd  swear  at  him  — 
the  rascal ! "  insisted  Jem,  not  a  little  alarmed  at  his  com 
panion's  appearance. 

"Can  you  be  right?  But  no.  She  said,  positively  —  I 
see  it  all !  It  is  worse  than  death  to  be  so  tortured !  " 

He  seized  the  bridle  again,  and  vaulted  into  the  saddle. 
Motion,  rapid,  incessant,  life-exhausting  motion,  could  alona 


220  AGNES. 

relieve  the  restless  misery  of  his  soul,  and  he  struck  spurs  into 
his  horse  and  galloped  away. 

As  a  violent  blow  produces  numbness,  and  only  with 
returning  life  comes  suffering;  as,  in  the  torture  of  "the 
hoop,"  the  victim,  after  the  first  moments  of  his  constrained 
position,  ceases  to  feel  pain,  but,  when  the  irons  open,  the 
rush  of  blood  through  the  chilled  and  stiffened  frame  fills  it 
with  extremest  agony ;  so  Percy  through  the  day  endured 
more  from  reviving  hope  than  he  had  from  despair.  The 
blow  that  fell  upon  his  heart  seemed  certain  and  final,  and  a 
torpor,  like  death,  had  followed  the  first  keen  sense  of  grief. 
But  now,  the  doubt,  the  suspense,  the  burning  desire  to  know 
how  far  the  change  in  public  affairs  had  affected  Col.  Stanley's 
designs  upon  Evelyn,  and  a  vindictive  joy,  which  he  could  not 
suppress,  at  the  danger  and  death  threatening  his  helpless 
foe,  caused  such  distraction  of  mind,  that  he  could  hardly 
attend  to  the  duties  of  the  present  time,  and  every  hour  of 
their  march  to  Morristown  seemed  like  a  year  of  mental 
torment. 

Even  after  they  arrived  there,  he  had  long  to  wait  before 
his  anxiety  could  be  in  the  least  relieved ;  for  the  van  with 
the  wounded  travelled  slowly,  and  it  was  late  in  the  evening 
before  Jem,  with  most  diligent  search,  could  obtain  the  infor 
mation  which  enabled  him  to  find  Col.  Stanley. 

A  large  barn  had  been  converted  into  a  hospital,  and  here 
the  surgeons  were  busy  in  ministering  to  the  wants  of  the  suf 
ferers;  but  the  officer,  in  deference  to  his  rank,  had  been 


MANY   A   SLIP    'TWIXT    CUP   AND    LIP.  221 

l 

carried  into  the  adjoining  house,  where  he  now  lay  on  a  com 
fortable  bed,  in  a  small  but  neat  apartment. 

He  seemed  to  be  asleep  as  Major  Grey  entered,  but  moved 
restlessly,  moaning  and  muttering,  his  lips  parched,  and  his 
brain  burning  with  fever ;  but  no  one  was  near  to  minister 
those  attentions  his  case  so  imperatively  demanded.  Amid 
his  incoherent  words,  Evelyn's  name  often  occurred,  coupled 
sometimes  witeh  terms  of  endearment,  and  sometimes  with 
fierce  threatenings  of  evil.  Once  or  twice  he  called  her  his 
wife,  and  bade  her  wait  upon  him  as  a  good  wife  should ;  but, 
even  when  his  sleep  was  broken,  and  his  wild,  blood-shot  eyes 
glared  round  the  room,  he  seemed  unconscious  of  his  situa 
tion,  and  began  giving  directions  for  the  contemplated  voyage 
to  England. 

As  Percy  lingered  there,  the  surgeon  entered,  accompanied 
by  the  mistress  of  the  house.  He  seemed  greatly  annoyed 
at  the  state  in  which  he  found  his  patient. 

"  It 's  a  sudden  change,"  he  said ;  "  the  man's  system  must 
have  been  out  of  order.  There  was  nothing  in  his  appear 
ance  this  morning  to  warrant  me  in  thinking  he  could  n't  be 
brought  on  in  safety.  But  now  — "  he  shook  his  head 
professionally,  and,  with  a  scowling  brow,  proceeded  to 
examine  the  bandages  over  the  wounded  limb,  and  to  measure 
out  medicines  for  the  night. 

But  when  he  commenced  giving  the  woman  directions 
respecting  their  administration,  she  exclaimed, 

"  You  needn't  trust  to  me!  If  this  gentleman  is  any  kin 
to  the  sick  man,  he'd  better  stay  and  take  care  of  him;  for 
19* 


222  AGNES. 

my  own  husband  is  sick  abed  with  a  fever,  and  I  an't  goin1 
to  leave  him  to  take  care  of  a  stranger  !  " 

"  But  the  man  will  die,  if  he  don't  have  the  very  best  of 
care,"  remonstrated  the  doctor. 

"  I  can't  help  it,  if  he  does !  I  '11  give  him  house-room,  and 
do  what  I  can  for  him ;  but  I  an't  goin'  to  neglect  my  man 
for  nobody.  So  you  may  get  him  a  nuss  yourself,  for  I  can't 
promise  to  take  care  of  him.  I  've  got  nothin'  but  my  two 
hands  to  help  me  do  every  chore  about  this  house,  and  see  to 
the  children  and  all, —  and  I  an't  made  of  iron,  neither  !  " 

No  contradiction  could  reasonably  be  made  to  this  state 
ment,  though,  from  the  woman's  voice  and  manner,  she  might 
have  been  called  "  smart  as  a  steel-trap ;  "  and  the  surgeon 
turned  to  Major  Grey,  with  an  appealing  look. 

"  I  don't  know  you,  sir,"  he  said,  "  but  you  seem  to  be 
watching  by  this  man.  Can  you  stay  and  take  care  of 
him  ?  " 

"  Can't  a  nurse  be  procured  elsewhere?  "  was  the  hesitating 
reply. 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know  where  one  can  be  got  for  to 
night,  and  he  must  not  be  left  alone.  It  '11  be  death  to  him, 
if  he  is.  He  '11  be  wild  with  delirium  before  morning. 
Won't  some  of  the  neighbors  come  in  ?  "  he  inquired  of  the 
woman. 

"  Perhaps  they  will,  if  you  ask  'em ;  but  I  reckon  they  've 
all  got  their  hands  full,  now  their  houses  are  crammed  with 
soldiers.  At  any  rate,  /  han't  no  time  to  go  runnin'  round 
after  watchers  —  there 's  the  baby  waked  up,  now  !  You 


MANY   A   SLIP   'TWIXT   CUP   AND   LIP.  223 

must  do  the  best  you  can  without  me !  "  And,  in  obedience 
to  a  faint  cry  that  reached  her  ears,  she  left  the  room. 

"  Well,  you  see  how  it  is  —  will  you  stay,  to-night  ?  " 
said  the  doctor,  with  some  impatience,  for  he  was  in  haste  to 
depart. 

A  struggle  had  been  going  on  in  Percy's  mind  from  the 
moment  he  entered  the  room.  Here  was  Evelyn's  persecutor, 
his  own  enemy,  wounded,  dying.  Should  he  leave  him  to  his 
fate?  Is  it  strange  that  he  hesitated?  Scorn  him  not,  ye 
who  are  strong  in  virtue !  Bitter  had  been  the  wrong  he  had 
endured ;  and  it  might  be  lasting  as  life  itself,  if  this  man 
survived.  Even  when  he  threw  off  his  cloak,  and  signified 
his  intention  to  remain,  he  was  moved  less  by  Christian 
charity,  than  by  a  'stubborn  self-respect,  that  held  him  back 
with  iron  baud  from  staining  his  soul  with  crime. 

Thankful  to  be  relieved,  the  surgeon  gave  his  directions 
and  went  away ;  but  the  medicines  he  ordered  seemed  to  have 
little  effect  as  the  night  wore  on,  and  Percy,  who  remembered 
his  mother's  skill  in  nursing,  resorted  to  her  favorite  remedy. 
He  brought  cold  water  from  the  well,  and  bathed  his  patient's 
face  and  hands,  applying  it  freely  to  the  head,  until  the 
racking  pain  was  soothed  and  the  fever  abated.  Gradually 
quiet  took  the  place  of  incessant  motion,  and  Col.  Stanley 
sank  into  the  first  sound  sleep  he  had  known  since  his  injury. 

Silently  the  hours  passed,  but  Percy  Grey  had  no  inc.ina- 
tion  for  repose.  His  mental  trouble,  the  turmoil  of  his 
thoughts,  made  him  almost  envy  the  death-like  insensibility 
of  the  sick  man. 


224  AGNES. 

Towards  morning,  Col.  Stanley  waked  and  called  for  water, 
of  which  he  drank  again  and  again,  until  the  supply  was 
exhausted,  and  Percy  went  to  obtain  more.  When  he 
returned  he  found  his  patient  sitting  up  in  bed,  his  eyes 
rolling  in  sudden  frenzy,  as  he  tore  off  the  bandages  about 
his  head,  and  pulled  at  his  clothes,  exclaiming, 

"  See,  see !  Take  them  away  —  burn  them  up  —  they  are 
wet  —  faugh  !  —  they  are  wet  with  her  blood  !  " 

"  This  is  only  water  —  you  are  dreaming  !  "  said  Major 
Grey,  trying  to  replace  them.  But  he  clutched  at  them 
wildly,  shouting, 

"  Horrible !  what  are  they  here  for  ?  —  take  them  away  !  I 
tell  you  it  is  blood  —  her  blood !  She  said  her  heart  was 
broken,  and  don't  broken  hearts  bleed?  'This  is  her  blood, 
I  say.  They  are  soaked  with  it !  " 

He  threw  them  to  the  furthest  corner  of  the  room,  and 
shuddered  violently.  An  irrepressible  question  burst  from 
his  hearer's  lips,  — 

"  Whose  blood  is  it  ?  —  Is  it  Evelyn  Chester's?  " 

The  sick  man,  arrested,  even  in  his  ravings,  by  the  passion 
of  that  tone,  paused,  with  a  momentary  change  of  expression, 
and  leered  at  him  cunningly. 

"  Evelyn's  ?  —  Miss  Chester's  ?  Who  calls  my  wife  by  that 
name  ?  You  should  say  Mrs.  Stanley,  when  you  inquire  for 
her.  But,  pray,  who  are  you  ?  " 

"  No  matter  who  I  am.     Are  you  married  —  tell  me  !  " 

"  Married  —  certainly  —  was  n't  it  all  arranged  ?  — I  meant 
to  be  honest  then,  I  assure  you  —  I  never  meant  to  deceive 


"MANY   A   SLIP   'TWIXT   CUP   AND   LIP."  225 

her"  was  the  reply,  followed  by  a  hoarse,  horrid  laugh ;  and 
then,  with  incoherent  muttering,  "  But  that  other  one  —  did 
you  see  her?  She  came  here  while  you  was  gone.  She 
stood  by  the  bed  —  I  saw  her.  She  covered  me  all  over  with 
her  blood.  Faugh  !  it  made  me  sick  !  There  she  is  again ' 
—  take  her  away  !  "  he  shrieked. 

"  There  is  no  one  here  but  myself,"  said  Percy,  sternly, 
forcing  him  to  lie  down.  He  struggled  a  moment,  and  then, 
with  a  change  of  mood,  said,  earnestly, 

"  I  assure  you  she  has  no  business  here.  Why  did  she 
come  ?  She  has  no  claim  on  me,  —  not  the  slightest.  It  was 
all  a  joke  !  ha,  ha !  —  poor  little  fool !  " 

Indignant  at  the  foul  wickedness  thus  dimly  shadowed  forth, 
Percy  was  about  to  speak  ;  but  now  oaths  and  curses  began  to 
issue  from  the  purple,  quivering  lips,  and  anger  was  lost  in 
pity  at  the  crowd  of  frightful  images  that  thronged  the  bewil 
dered  brain.  With  difficulty  he  persuaded  him  to  remain  in 
bed,  and  to  take  the  anodyne  which  had  been  ordered  if  this 
phase  of  delirium  should  ensue.  But  Col.  Stanley  did  not 
sleep  again  that  night,  and  when  the  surgeon  came,  early  in 
the  morning,  he  looked  extremely  troubled. 

"  He  '11  die,  for  certain,"  said  he,  drawing  Percy  aside.  "I 
have  tried  everywhere,  and  can't  get  a  woman  to  nurse  him 
who  looks  as  if  she  was  capable  to  do  anything ;  and  I  find  he 
is  a  high  officer.  We  don't  take  a  great  many  of  them,  and 
they  count  up  in  exchanging  prisoners.  The  genera*  will  be 
sorry  to  have  me  lose  him,  on  that  account ;  but  I  don't  see 
any  help  for  it." 


226  AGNES. 

"  Is  the  case  desperate  ?  "  asked  Percy,  trembling  to  feel 
the  irrepressible  thrill  of  joy  that  passed  over  him. 

"  It  is  desperate  because  he  can't  have  good  nursing.  As 
the  woman  here  says,  everybody  in  town  has  their  house  full 
and  their  hands  full.  If  he  could  be  well  taken  care  of  for 
only  a  few  days,  the  symptoms  might  change  favorably,  and 
the  inflammation  be  subdued.  The  wound  was  n't  so  bad  in 
the  first  place,  —  I  think  that  fall  must  have  hurt  him." 

"  And  if  a  capable  nurse  can  be  procured,  you  think  he 
may  recover  ?  " 

"  Very  likely.  He  looks  like  a  pretty  good  constitution. 
But  you  —  I  see  you  are  an  officer,  and  I  suppose  you  can't 
be  with  him  constantly.  Is  he  a  friend  of  yours  —  is  Col. 
Stanley?" 

A  peculiar  expression  upon  Percy's  face,  as  he  replied  in 
the  negative,  attracted  the  surgeon's  attention,  and  he  said, 

"You're  sick  yourself!  Was  you  in  the  engagement? 
was  you  wounded  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  I  have  but  just  escaped  from  New  York.  I 
was  taken  prisoner  with  Gen.  Lee,  and  only  joined  the  army 
after  they  had  crossed  Stony  Brook.  I  am  Major  Grey —  " 

"  0,  yes !  —  Major  Grey.  I  heard  the  circumstance  men 
tioned.  Allow  me  to  congratulate  you,  sir.  But  I  must  be 
off.  "Will  you  remain  here  ?  " 

"  Not  at  present ;  indeed,  I  have  little  skill  at  nursing. 
But,  if  some  one  will  stay  with  Col.  Stanley  this  morning,  I 
think  I  can  procure  a  competent  person  to  take  care  of  him 
for  a  few  days.  I  can  return  this  afternoon." 


"MANY  A  SLIP  'TWIXT  CUP  AND  LIP."        227 

"  If  you  can,  you  '11  take  considerable  anxiety  off  my  shoul 
ders  ;  for,  as  I  explained  to  you,  I  should  like  to  save  this 
case,  if  I  can.  I  '11  send  one  of  the  soldiers  in  to  relieve  you. 
sir,  in  a  few  moments ; "  and  the  worthy  surgeon  hurried 
away  to  the  barn-hospital.  In  a  short  time  the  man  he  had 
promised  to  send  made  his  appearance,  and,  as  Col.  Stanley, 
though  suffering  greatly,  was  less  violent  than  he  had  been, 
Major  Grey  left  him,  and  went  to  his  lodgings  to  breakfast. 

Through  twenty-four  hours  of  incessant  excitement,  he  had 
not  tasted  food. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE    GOLDEN    RULE. 

A  SHORT  distance  from  the  house,  he  met  Jem  Henderson, 
who  had  just  discovered  that  he  was  not  in  his  room,  and  was 
coming  to  find  him. 

"  You  '11  jest  kill  yourself,  and  that 's  all  the  good  this 
blessed  war,  as  marm  calls  it,  '11  do  you ! "  Jem  said,  reproach 
fully,  as  he  surveyed  his  friend  with  a  scrutinizing  glance. 

"  It  would  be  a  blessed  war,  indeed,  if  it  would  do  that  for 
me  !  "  returned  Percy,  bitterly. 

"  Now,  Major,  I  would  n't  give  it  up  so !  —  more  'specially 
jest  now,  when  you  've  nabbed  the  very  devil  himself!  If  I 
was  you,  I  'd  take  pretty  good  care  he  did  n't  get  back  again, 
to  trouble  nobody.  Law !  won't  them  black  eyes  o'  Miss 
Evelyn's  shine  when  she  hears  the  colonel  is  a  prisoner?  I 
wish  we  had  a  Sugar-House  to  shet  him  up  in !  Fust  they 
trap  you,  and  now  you  trap  him.  That 's  what  I  call  fair 
play  all  round." 

"  Jem,"  said  Major  Grey,  speaking  in  a  very  low  tone, 
"  she  is  Miss  Evelyn  no  longer.  She  is  married  to  Col. 
Stanley." 


THE     GOLDEN     RULE.  229 

Jem  gave  a  prolonged  "  whew !  "  and  snapped  every  one  of 
his  finger-joints  before  he  answered. 

"  I  don't  believe  it !  "  he  said,  stoutly. 

"  It  is  true." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  watched  with  Col.  Stanley  last  night.  He  is  very  sick 
—  delirious  —  but  when  I  asked  him  that  question  he  seemed 
rational  for  a  moment,  and  he  told  me  so." 

"  He  lied,  then !  He  'd  be  more  likely  to  lie  about  it,  if  he 
had  his  senses,"  replied  Jem,  defiantly. 

"I  fear  it  is  too  true.  It  only  confirms  Miss  Evelyn's 
letter." 

"  Well,  now,  look  here,"  said  Jem,  pausing  abruptly,  and 
placing  himself  directly  before  his  companion,  "  if  I  'd  known 
you  was  going  to  be  sich  a  fool  as  to  set  up  all  night  with 
that  pesky  sarpent,  and  then  make  yourself  miserable  about 
what  he  said  when  he  was  crazy,  I  'd  gone  and  took  care  on 
him  myself.  What's  the  good,  Major?  Things  is  bad 
enough  for  you  and  Miss  Evelyn,  that 's  certain,  though  I 
don't  exactly  understand  how.  But  she  looked  like  death 
when  she  give  me  that  letter,  and  that  ere  long-worded  darkey 
o'  their'n  told  me  they  was  all  going  to  England  ;  so  I  know 
something  is  to  pay,  and  this  ere  Col.  Stanley  is  to  the  bottom 
of  it.  But  now  what 's  the  good  o'  giving  up  ?  Who  knows 
he'll  ever  go  back  to  plague  anybody?  Let  him  alone,  and  I 
reckon  he  '11  go  where  he  belongs." 

"  Would  it  be  right  ?  "  said  Percy,  half  aloud. 

"  Who  cares  if 't  an't  ?  " 
20 


230  AGNES. 

"  I  do,"  was  the  thoughtful  reply. 

It  seemed  to  open  a  new  train  of  reflections  in  Jem's  rnind. 
He  resumed  his  walk,  and,  after  a  while,  said,  in  a  less  vehe 
ment  tone, 

"  Any  way,  Major,  I  would  n't  give  up.  It 's  all  nonsense 
to  give  up  —  and  all  that!  An't  it  always  darkest  jest  before 
day  ?  An't  folks  always  disappointed  jest  when  they  feel 
sure  ?  The  devil  helps  'em  into  a  scrape,  but  he  don't  help 
'em  out.  You^can  see  how  'tis  by  this  very  last  shine  o'  the 
general's,  down  there  to  Trenton —  cuttin'  up  the  way  he  did. 
The  folks  in  York  thought  he  'd  know,  for  once,  when  he  was 
beat,  and  be  willing  to  stay  beat ;  and  they  was  all  ready  to 
go  home  and  tell  how  the  war  was  over.  That  was  the  talk 
the  day  I  came  from  there.  But,  by  jingoes !  he  gets  licked, 
every  turn,  —  but  he 's  up  to  time,  for  all  that,  and  this  ere 
blessed  war  an't  goin'  to  be  finished  in  a  hurry.  So  don't 
give  up,  Major.  I  don't  believe  one  word  about  Miss  Evelyn 
bein'  married." 

Though  he  was  cheered,  in  spite  of  himself,  by  Jem's  cour 
ageous  incredulity,  Percy  could  not  forbear  reflecting,  with  a 
sigh,  that  the  disappointment  which  comes  when  we  are  surest 
affects  the  things  we  hope  for,  as  well  as  those  we  fear.  By 
this  time  they  had  reached  the  tavern,  and,  learning  that  Jem 
had  already  breakfasted,  Major  Grey  requested  him  to  pro 
cure  for  him  a  sleigh  or  sled,  and  harness  his  horse  into  it.  as 
he  intended  driving  out  to  his  father's  farm,  which  was  about 
ten  miles  distant.  This  was  readily  accomplished,  and,  as  a 
light  snow  had  fallen  the  previous  night,  and  made  the  trav- 


THE     GOLDEN     KULE.  231 

elling  passable,  it  was  not  many  hours  before  the  sound  of  his 
sleigh-bells  brought  the  family  once  more  to  the  door  to 
welcome  him. 

They  were  not  surprised  at  this  speedy  return,  having  been 
informed  of  the  battle  of  Princeton,  and  that  the  army  were 
moving  to  Morristown ;  and  so  eager  were  they  to  hear  all 
the  particulars  of  the  event,  that  some  time  elapsed  before 
he  found  an  opportunity  to  unfold  the  chief  purpose  of  his 
visit. 

But,  when  dinner-time  came,  he  followed  his  mother  into 
the  pantry  adjoining  the  kitchen,  where  she  had  gone  to  mix 
the  corn-cake  that  was  to  be  the  chief  dish  on  the  table.  He 
watched  her  a  moment  in  silence,  as  she  stirred  the  yellow 
meal ;  and,  looking  up  to  ask  some  trivial  question,  she  was 
startled  at  the  expression  of  his  face. 

"  Let  me  speak  with  }rou,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone.  "  The 
others  may  know  what  I  have  to  say  by  and  by,  but  I  must 
tell  you  first." 

He  paused,  strongly  agitated,  and  his  mother's  heart  beat 
violently  as  she  saw  his  efforts  at  self-control ;  for  she  knew 
it  was  no  slight  thing  which  moved  him  thus.  Frank,  who  had 
followed  him,  not  divining  his  desire  to  be  alone  with  his 
mother,  caught  a  glimpse  of  their  faces,  and  stood  unseen  in 
the  doorway,  hesitating  and  amazed.  Percy  went  on,  rapidly 

"  There  is  a  man  who  has  injured  me  beyond  all  remedy  or 
redress,  —  a  man  whose  life  is  a  deadly  bane  to  the  happiness 
of  one  I  prize  most  dearly.  You  look  surprised,  mother  — 
all  is  changed  since  I  was  here " 


232  AGNES. 

"Poor  boy!  I  saw  it  in  thy  face.  Goon.  What  of  this 
man  ?  " 

"  He  is  now  in  Morristown,  a  prisoner,  wounded,  ready  to 
die  if  he  cannot  have  the  most  assiduous  care.  The  town  is 
full  of  soldiers  and  the  sick.  There  is  no  one  to  attend  par 
ticularly  to  his  case.  Mother,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

Mrs.  Grey  did  not  reply  immediately.  Her  mild  eyes  filled 
with  tears,  her  lips  trembled,  and  an  expression  came  over 
her  face  as  if  maternal  love  struggled  with  an  emotion  scarcely 
more  strong  or  pure.  Then  she  said, 

"'If  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him ;  if  he  thirst,  give  him 
drink.'  Percy,  is  not  that  the  reading?  " 

"  I  knew  you  would  say  so  !  "  he  exclaimed,  and,  as  he 
turned  aside  to  hide  the  emotion  he  could  no  longer  control, 
he  saw  his  brother. 

"  Don't  be  angry,  Percy,"  Frank  said,  striving  to  choke 
down  his  own  feelings.  "  I  ought  not  to  have  listened,  but  I 
could  n't  help  it.  You  are  a  noble  fellow  —  but,  mother, 
that 's  an  awful  bitter  dose,  that  text,  unless  you  put  on  the 
rest  of  the  sentence.  I  always  thought  that  remark  about 
heaping  coals  of  fire  was  put  in  as  a  sort  of  consolation  to  us 
poor  sinners  when  we  try  to  do  our  duty.  Put  'em  on  to 
that  fellow's  head  by  the  shovelful  —  I  would  !  Who  is  he, 
Percy?" 

"  His  name  is  Stanley.     He  lies  very  ill." 

"  What  is  all  this  about?  "  interrupted  Mr.  Grey,  attracted 
to  the.spot  by  Frank's  remark. 

"  I  spoke  of  a  sick  man  —  a  British  officer  —  who  needs 


THE     GOLDEN     RULE.  283 

better  care  than  it  is  possible  just  now  to  procure  at  Morris- 
town.  I  came  ove'r  to  see  if  mother  would  go  back  with  me 
and  nurse  him  for  a  day  or  two,  until  the  immediate  danger 
is  passed,  or  some  one  else  can  be  procured." 

"  Now,  mother,  you  'd  better  go.  Agnes  and  me  can  do 
the  chores  round,  and  keep  house  as  well  as  not,"  said  the  old 
man,  cheerfully.  "  Can't  we,  Agnes?  " 

She  looked  up  with  a  smile  of  acquiescence,  as  she  flitted 
by  with  the  salt  fish  she  was  about  to  broil  for  dinner,  and 
Mrs.  Grey  replied, 

"  I  think  I  '11  go.  Frank's  hand  is  better,  and  he  will  not 
need  me  now.  I  am  moved  to  undertake  this  duty,  though, 
as  Frank  says,  it  is  hard." 

"  Hard  !  Why,  mother,  I  never  thought  but  what  you  liked 
nussin' !  "  exclaimed  her  husband. 

"  Thee  knows  I  do,  dear,"  she  answered,  quietly.  "  It  was 
the  spirit,  and  not  the  flesh,  that  shrank  from  this.  But  I 
will  go." 

"  And  a  friend  o'  Percy's,  too  !  "  pursued  Mr.  Grey,  with  a 
perplexed  manner. 

"He  is  no  friend  of  mine,"  said  his  son,  quickly. 

"  Who  is  he,  then  ?     What 's  his  name  ?  " 

"  Do  you  remember  the  two  gentlemen,  with  a  lady,  who 
staid  here  a  short  time,  one  afternoon,  while  their  carriage  was 
being  mended  ?  He  was  one  of  them,  —  a  tall,  haughty- 
looking  man.  He  is  a  colonel  in  the  British  army.  His 
name  is  Stanley." 

A  faint  sound,  between  a  sigh  and  an  exclamation,  reached 
20* 


AO  NES . 

Frank's  ear  with  these  words,  and  he  looked  at  Agnes.  She 
stood  a  little  apart,  her  hands  pressed  upon  her  heart,  as  was 
her  habit  when  suddenly  moved,  her  head  bent  forward  in  an 
attitude  of  eager  interest,  and  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
speaker's  face  with  an  expression  so  thrilling,  so  intense,  that 
a  fierce  pang  of  jealousy  shot  through  his  soul. 

"  It  is  Percy  she  loves,  not  me  !  "  he  thought ;  and,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  he  envied  his  brother  the  superiority  in 
which  he  had  before  gloried,  as  if  it  were  his  own. 

The  conversation  proceeded.  Old  Mr.  Grey  shook  his 
head  with  a  knowing  air,  exclaiming, 

"  Well,  now  !  I  like  that,  extraordinary  well !  He  seemed 
too  proud  to  look  at  us  that  day,  and  now  he 's  come  to  be 
beholden  to  you  for  to  make  him  comfortable  !  That 's  the 
way  the  wheel  goes  round  !  'T  an't  safe  to  despise  nobody, 
for  we  don't  none  on  us  know  what  we  're  coming  to.  I 
remember  him  well  enough  —  and  that  lady,  too.  She  was  a 
pretty  cretur,  and  not  a  bit  stuck-up,  neither,  for  all  she  had 
such  a  proud  look  in  her  eyes.  What  did  you  say  her  name 
was  ?  " 

"  It  was  Miss  Chester.  The  other  gentleman  was  her 
father." 

"  And  was  n't  the  colonel  a  beau  o'  her'n  ?  Somehow,  he 
kind  o'  handed  her  round  as  if  he  thought  she  belonged  to 
him." 

Percy's  face  was  colorless,  and  something  in  his  voice 
betrayed  the  pain  at  his  heart,  as  he  replied,  briefly, 

"  Probably  she  is  now  his  wife." 


THE     GOLDEN     RULE.  235 

Mr.  Grey  scrutinized  his  son's  face  a  moment,  and  a  new 
light  seemed  to  dawn  upon  his  mind.  He  asked  no  more 
questions,  and,  abruptly  seating  himself,  called  them  to  the 
table.  Agnes  had  stolen  softly  away. 

The  dinner-hour  passed  almost  in  silence ;  and,  if  they  ate 
sparingly,  it  was  less  on  account  of  the  lenten  fare,  than  the 
dead  weight  which  rested  upon  their  spirits.  The  father 
glanced  often  at  his  wife  and  children,  not  a  little  hurt  at 
believing  himself  shut  out  from  their  confidence ;  and  each  cf 
those  three  had  at  heart  a  deep  disquiet,  and  saw  in  the 
future  a  struggle  and  a  sacrifice,  that  must  be  borne  alone. 
After  the  meal  was  finished,  Mrs.  Grey  went  to  prepare  her 
self  for  the  drive.  As  she  left  the  kitchen,  she  met  Agnes  at 
the  door. 

"  I  was  coming  to  seek  you,"  she  said.  "0,  Mrs.  Grey, 
let  me  go  in  your  place.  I  am  a  good  nurse  —  indeed,  1 
am !  I  will  not  leave  him  a  moment.  0,  I  must  go !  I 
cannot  fill  your  place  here  at  home  —  you  are  needed  here. 
But  nobody  needs  me.  Do  let  me  go  !  " 

She  was  so  excited  and  earnest,  that,  in  spite  of  her  better 
judgment,  for  a  moment  Mrs.  Grey  hesitated.  But  Percy, 
who  had  overheard  the  request,  interfered  immediately. 

"  You  wouldn't  think  of  such  a  thing,  mother!  "  said  he. 
"  The  bedside  of  that  man,  in  his  delirium,  is  no  place  for  a 
delicate  girl.  Agnes  has  neither  the  bodily  or  the  mental 
(strength  necessary  for  such  a  task." 

"  I  am  stronger  than  I  look  —  I  have  quite  regained  my 


236  A  ONES. 

health.  0,  you  don't  know  how  much  I  can  bear  ! "  said 
Agnes,  nervously. 

"  It  will  never  do.  It  is  kind  of  thee  to  wish  it,  but  it 
will  never  do,"  replied  Mrs.  Grey.  "Thee -might  be 
employed  in  light  duties  about  the  sick,  but  thec  has  over 
rated  thy  strength  in  wishing  to  undertake  this  task.  I  shall 
be  gone  a  few  days,  and  thee  can  be  very  useful  here  at 
home." 

She  passed  on  in  her  gentle,  firm  manner,  which  no  one 
ever  thought  of  disputing,  and  the  girl  remained  standing  in 
the  entry.  The  kitchen  door  had  closed  of  itself.  No  one 
saw  the  large  tears  which  gathered  slowly  and  ran  over  her 
cheeks,  or  the  frantic  gesture  of  impatient  disappointment 
with  which  she  wrung  her  hands,  and  pressed  them  once  more 
over  the  wildly-throbbing  heart. 

Frank,  who  had  been  standing  listlessly  by  the  fire,  went 
to  the  door,  where  Percy  had  brought  the  sleigh,  and  was 
waiting  his  mother's  appearance. 

"  You  have  never  made  a  confidant  of  me,"  he  said,  in  his 
impulsive  way,  "  but  I  have  guessed  something  about  this 
matter,  and  it  seems  to  me  you  are  just  flying  in  the  face  of 
Providence.  Seems  to  me,  if  I  was  you,  I  'd  stand  one  side, 
and  let  the  Lord  manage  things  his  own  way." 

"  I  should  be  glad  if  I  had  not  known  about  Col.  Stanley," 
answered  Percy.  "  But  I  sought  him  out  for  my  own  satis 
faction,  and  found  him  as  you  have  heard.  You  remember 
the  words  which  came  first  from  mother's  lips  when  I  told  her 
of  it?" 


THE     GOLDEN     RULAi,  237 

"  Yes.  But,  Percy,  what  are  you  g'iing  to  do,  if  thia 
man  lives?  What  do  you  expect?  Are  you  relying  upon 
his  generosity,  or  magnanimity,  or  any  other  five-syllabled 
virtue  you  may  think  he  possesses  ?  Because,  if  you  are,  I  '11 
bet  a  shad  you  're  mistaken  !  " 

"  I  expect  nothing  —  I  hope  for  nothing  !  "  answered  his 
brother,  gloomily.  "  I  am  in  that  pas;*  sphere  a  man  must 
walk  straight  in  the  path  made  for  him,  or  he  stumbles  and 
fulls  utterly." 

"  Are  you  sure  Miss  Chester  will  thank  you  for  your 
pains  ? ;'  asked  Frank,  after  a  shoi  t  pause. 

"  At  least,  she  will  understand  me !  "  was  the  reply. 

"  Well,  you  must  do  as  you  please,"  said  his  brother,  with 
some  impatience.  "  You  are  altogether  on  too  high  a  scale 
for  me,  and  I  thought  I  'd  try  and  bring  you  to  a  little 
common  sense.  I  should  feel  a  good  deal  more  like  shooting 
the  man  than  nursing  him." 

"My  son,  what's  thee  saying?"  exclaimed  his  mother's 
voice,  behind  him.  "  Thee  speaks  unadvisedly  in  giving  thy 
brother  such  counsel.  He  has  a  better  rule  than  that." 

"  No  doubt  you  'd  say  so,"  replied  Frank  ;  "  but  the  rule 
you  refer  to,  if  it  is  the  one  you  quoted,  was  made  so  long 
ago,  it  could  n't  have  been  intended  for  the  present  state  of 
society.  However,  go  your  own  way — you  and  Percy  — 
and  we  '11  see  what  comes  of  it.  One  good  thing  about  my 
plan  is,  that  it  can  be  used  after  yours  has  failed.  It 
would  in  any  case  be  the  last  resort." 

He  handed  his  mother  into  the  sleigh,  and  watched  them 


238  AGNES. 

drive  off.  When  he  went  in-doors  again,  Agnes  was  busy 
about  her  household  duties,  and  even  his  eyes  could  detect  • 
nothing  different  from  her  usual  manner.  But  the  idea  he 
had  received  would  not  leave  him,  and,  with  the  perversity 
usual  to  a  man  in  love,  he  hugged  it  to  his  heart,  and  made' 
himself  miserable  over  it. 

Day  after  day  passed,  and  still  Mrs.  Grey  continued  absent. 
The  look  of  wistful  sorrow  in  Agnes'  eyes  grew  more  intense, 
and  oftener  her  lips  turned  white,  and  her  hands  were  pressed 
above  her  heart,  as  if  in  a  spasm  of  pain.  But  she  had  ever 
a  smile  and  a  pleasant  word  for  those  who  addressed  her,  and 
attended  to  the  housekeeping  quietly  and  mechanically ;  or, 
when  those  cares  were  ended,  took  refuge  behind  a  long  seam 
of  sewing,  which  Frank  insisted  she  must  set  up  nights  to 
pick  out,  as  it  was  never  finished.  She  answered,  in  her  slow, 
gentle  tones,  to  Mr.  Grey's  occasional  observations,  and 
exerted  herself  to  cheer  him ;  for  he  had  not  during  years 
before  been  separated  from  his  wife,  and  he  missed  her  sadly. 
But  neither  of  them  noticed  that  Frank's  careless  nonsense 
had  ceased,  that  his  words  were  full  of  moody  bitterness,  and 
his  customary  vivacity  had  vanished. 

One  evening,  when  nearly  a  week  had  elapsed,  just  as  the 
twilight  shadows  were  creeping  over  the  low  walls  of  the 
kitchen,  the  old  farmer  roused  from  a  dreamy  revery,  and, 
turning  to  his  son,  said,  with  unwonted  animation, 

"  Mother  's  staid  as  long  now  as  she  said  she  would,  at  the 
very  furthest ;  and,  I  tell  you,  I  shall  be  extraordinary  glad 
to  see  her  home  again." 


THE     GOLDEN     RULE.  239 

'  Do  you  suppose  she  will  come  to-morrow?  " 

"  I  know  she  will !  'T  would  be  a  master  strange  thing  if 
she  didn't  come  when  she  said  she  would.  I  mean  to  make 
Percy  jest  take  me  over  to  Morristown  to  see  the  gin'ral. 
'T  would  do  me  a  master  sight  o'  good  to  shake  hands  with 
him.  If  ever  there  was  a  man  raised  up  for  a  special  pur 
pose,  it 's  that  man.  Providence  takes  care  on  him,  and  he 
never  '11  be  beat  in  this  world,  I  tell  you ! " 

"  No  doubt  he  'd  be  glad  to  know  you  're  sure  of  it !  "  said 
Frank.  "  I  reckon  he  has  some  doubts  about  it  himself,  just 
now.  I  don't  know  how  he  can  help  being  discouraged  at  the 
way  things  go." 

"  He  an't  no  need  to  be  discouraged  —  he  's  under  the 
special  care  o'  Providence,  as  I  said  afore.  What  else  saved 
him  down  there  to  Kamapo  Creek  ?  You  hearn  Percy  tell 
on 't.  Jest  a  little  stream  between  'em  —  our  folks  all  worn 
out  —  half-starved  —  scarce  any  powder  or  shot  for  their 
guns,  and  none  too  many  o'  them,  and  Gen.  Howe  with  all  his 
army  in  good  condition.  What  kep'  him  from  corning  across 
that  ere  little  stream?  'Twan't  nothin'  but  Providence! 
There  was  n't  no  reason  why  them  prowlin'  soldiers  were  so 
'mazin'  indifferent,  all  of  a  sudden,  when  they  see  the  prey 
right  in  their  power  !  " 

"  Perhaps  it  is  so,"  said  Frank,  absently.  "  He  is  a  brave 
man,  and  deserves  success." 

"  'T  an't  his  bravery  —  't  an't  his  desarts,  neither !  "  per 
sisted  Mr.  Grey.  "  Perhaps  you  don't  understand  me, 
Frauk ;  you  an't  watched  the  ways  o'  this  world  as  long  as  I 


240  A  Q  N  E  8  . 

have.  There  is  a  Power  above  us  all,  and  them  that  looks 
can  see  how  it  takes  care  on  us." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  Does  God  care  for  each  one 
of  us  ?  Does  he  notice  us  ?  "  said  Agnes,  at  his  side.  She 
had  drawn  her  low  seat  nearer  to  him,  and,  resting  one  hand 
on  his  knee,  looked  up  earnestly,  as  if  her  whole  soul  hung 
upon  his  words. 

"  I  an't  no  manner  o'  doubt  on't,  dear,"  he  answered,  laying 
the  delicate  little  hand  in  his,  and  caressing  it  softly. 

"  Why,  then,  does  he  not  hear  us  when  we  pray  to  him  ? 
Why  is  he  so  deaf  to  our  cries?  Why  is  there  so  much 
wrong,  such  terrible  evil,  such  deep  suffering,  in  the  world  ? 
O,  surely,  surely  we  are  too  feeble,  too  weak,  to  attract  his 
notice,  and  he  does  not  know  what  we  endure,  or  he  would 
pity  us !  " 

She  wrung  her  hand  away  from  his,  and  stretched  it  out 
towards  heaven,  with  a  passionate  gesture  of  entreaty  and 
reproach. 

"  Poor  little  gal,  you  're  on  the  dark  side  o'  this  question 
now,  an't  ye  ?  but  maybe  you  '11  come  out  into  the  light  by'm 
by.  There 's  a  good  deal  o'  puzzle  about  it,  I  know,  but 
there  's  full  as  much  to  make  us  believe.  Look  at  all  them 
Bible  stories  about  the  ravens  feeding  the  prophet,  and  all 
that.  You  b'lieve  'em,  don't  you  ?  " 

She  looked  doubtful,  and  shook  her  head,  as  if  such  far-off 
consolation  did  not  reach  her  case ;  and  Prank  said,  half 
jestingly,  half  bitterly, 

"  But  the  only  ravens  we  have  nowadays  are  crows,  and 


THE     GOLDEN     RULE.  241 

the  prophets  we  call  witches.  I  believe  the  Bible,  and  so 
does  Agnes,  I  suppose ;  but  it  don't  seem  as  if  the  Lord  gov 
erns  this  world  as  he  used  to,  or  heaven  was  as  near  to  earth 
as  it  once  was." 

His  father  mused  a  while,  with  a  quiet  smile  of  certainty 
stealing  over  his  face.  Then  he  said, 

"  It 's  natural  for  you  young  things  to  doubt.  When  you 
get  impatient  and  restless,  you  don't  have  no  past  providences 
to  fall  back  upon,  as  old  folks  do.  Listen  to  me,  now.  I  '11 
tell  you  a  story  about  my  mother ;  and  it 's  a  true  one,  too, 
though  it 's  e'enamost  as  wonderful  as  Elijah  and  the  ravens. 

«'  You  know,  Frank,  I  lived  on  Mass'chusetts  Bay  when  I 
was  a  youngster.  Well,  my  mother  was  left  a  widow  when  I 
was  a  little  feller ;  but  this  happened  afore  she  knowed  she 
was  never  a  goin'  to  see  my  father  agin.  They  lived  in  a 
lonesome  place;  a  good  many  miles  from  any  neighbors,  and 
sometimes  did  n't  see  a  soul  but  themselves  for  days  together. 
'T  was  a  tol'able  good  place  for  a  farm,  and  so  my  father  took 
it  up,  and  they  managed  to  get  along  with  what  they  grew, 
and  a  little  fishin'  now  and  then.  Wai,  the  summer  arter  I 
was  born,  my  mother  had  a  fever  and  rheumatiz  so  bad  that 
arter  she  got  better  she  was  lame  so  she  could  n't  walk  a  step. 
The  gal  that  nussed  her  when  she  was  sick  had  to  go  home, 
and  she  was  alone,  with  me  and  my  brother  to  take  care  on ; 
but  she  thought  she  could  get  along  for  a  day,  and  so  my 
father  took  the  boat,  one  morning,  and  went  off  to  fish.  He 
had  n't  been  gone  long  afore  there  came  up  an  awful  thunder- 
squall,  and  she  never  see  my  father  arter  that.  He  was 
21 


242  AGNES. 

drownded,  childern,  drownded !  and  she  left  a  young  widow, 
with  two  babies  to  work  for." 

His  voice  grew  husky  for  a  moment,  but  he  went  on,  with 
out  pausing  for  the  exclamation  of  pity  which  his  listeners 

• 

uttered. 

"  Night  came,  and  she  was  all  alone ;  but  still  she  hoped 
he  'd  been  driven  out  by  the  storm,  and  would  work  into  some 
harbor.  But  day  after  day  went  on,  and  nobody  came  near 
her.  There  was  n't  much  in  the  house  to  eat,  for  the  provi 
sions  was  most  out  when  my  father  went  away,  and  he  was 
goino-  to  the  next  town  to  sell  the  fish  and  get  more.  She 

O  O  O 

had  a  nussin  baby,  and  another  two  year  old,  and  what  to  do 
she  did  n't  know.  She  managed  to  shuffle  round  the  house, 
but  she  could  n't  walk  and  carry  the  young  ones,  not  even  to 
save  their  lives  when  they  was  starvin' ;  and  she  began  to 
think  they  would  starve  afore  anybody  came  near  'em. 

"  Wai,  there  was  a  cat,  a  great  gray  cat,  that  had  been  in 
and  out  round  the  house,  for  a  few  months ;  but  they  never 
had  made  much  on  her,  for  they  was  n't  very  fond  o'  cats. 
One  mornin'  the  oldest  child  was  cryin'  for  bread,  and  she 
was  dyin'  o'  weakness  herself,  and  she  said  to  herself,  '  Dear, 
dear,  what  should  they  do  ? ' 

"  Wai,  the  cat  had  been  layin'  on  the  doorstep,  and  when 
she  hearn  marm  kind  o'  cry  out  like  that,  she  jumped  up  and 
looked  right  straight  in  her  face,  and  made  tracks  for  the 
woods  that  was  all  round  the  house.  She  was  gone  nigh  an 
hour,  and  when  she  came  back  she  had  a  great  fat  robin  in 
her  mouth ;  and  she  brought  it  and  laid  it  down  at  my  marm's 


THE     GOLDEN     RULE.  243 

feet,  and  looked  up  in  her  face  and  mewed  again,  and  never 
offered  to  touch  it,  though  marm  was  so  astonished  and  fright- 
ened-like,  that  she  did  n't  pick  it  up  for  some  time. 

"  Wai,  she  made  a  broth  of  it  and  fed  my  brother,  and  eat 
the  rest  herself;  and  she  said  nothin'  in  her  life,  afore  or 
arterwards,  ever  tasted  so  good  as  that  ere  broth." 

"  That  story  is  a  regular  cat-tail,  father !  How  do  you 
account  for  it  ?  "  said  Frank,  incredulously. 

"  I  don't  account  for  it.  I  know  it 's  true.  And  that 
warn't  all  there  was  to  it.  The  next  morning  the  cat  went 
again,  and  that  time  she  brought  home  a  full-grown  partridge; 
and  for  four  days  she  did  the  same  thing  reg'lar.  She  always 
went  about  the  same  time,  and  always  brought  home  some 
thing.  Now,  was  n't  that  a  clear  case  of  Providence?  Did  n't 
the  Lord  care  partic'lar  for  that  poor  woman  and  her 
babies?"* 

"  Are  you  sure  that  is  true  ?  "  asked  Frank,  in  an  excited 
tone. 

"  True  as  I  'm  a  livin'  cretur,"  replied  his  father.  "  I  'd 
take  my  oath  on  't  afore  anybody." 

"Then  it  is  the  most  wonderful  thing  I  ever  heard  of! 
What  became  of  the  cat  ?  " 

"  Wai,  arter  four  days  some  o'  the  neighbors  come  along, 
and  they  took  marm  and  the  childern  into  the  village,  where 
they  could  see  to  'em,  for  they  was  pretty  sure  father  must 
be  dead ;  and  nobody  ever  saw  the  cat  arterwards.  Marm 
would  a  given  e'enamost  anything  to  a  found  her ;  but  she 
*  A  true  story. 


244  AGNES. 

never  could  hear  as  anybody  had  seen  her.  'Twas  most 
extraordinary." 

"  But  all  are  not  so  cared  for,"  persisted  Agnes,  after  a 
pause,  in  a  sharp,  bitter  tone.  "  Is  the  Almighty  partial  ? 
Why  does  he  fill  some  lives  with  gladness,  and  leave  others  to 
want,  and  struggle,  and  ceaseless,  wearing  pain  ?  " 

"  And  why,"  added  Frank,  moodily,  "  are  some  so  uniformly 
successful,  gaining  even  more  than  they  desire,  —  what  others, 
who  are  left  all  their  days  to  disappointment  and  defeat, 
would  give  the  world  to  possess  ?  " 

"  These  things  seem  hard  to  you,  childern,  I  know,"  replied 
his  father.  "  Time  has  been  when  I  have  thought,  myself, 
now  sich  and  sich  things  is  the  very  worst  that  cottld  happen ; 
but  I  've  been  brought  through  'em,  and  so  '11  you.  And 
when  you  get  through,  and  come  to  look  back  and  see  it  all, 
you  '11  say  you  've  been  dealt  with  pretty  middlin'  well." 

The  old  man  smiled  quietly  as  he  spoke.  Sitting  there,  in 
the  dreamy  firelight,  his  life-voyage  so  nearly  done,  the  cries 
of  these  young  hearts,  striving  to  pierce  the  mystery  of  exist 
ence,  sounded  like  the  voice  of  tempest-tossed  waves  to  the 
mariner  safe  on  shore. 

"  But  it  is  so  long  before  we  are  old  !  It  is  SQ  hard  to 
wait !  "  sighed  Agnes. 

"  Yes,  it  takes  patience,  childern  —  patience  and  faith.  We 
must  believe ;  and  what  we  don't  know  now,  we  '11  know  here 
after.  Etarnity,  etarnity's  the  place,  childern,  where  the 
snarls  '11  be  taken  out  o'  this  tangle !  " 

The  tranquil  assurance  of  his  tones  soothed,  if  it  did  not 


THE     GOLDEN    RULE.  245 

convince,  and  there  was  no  reply.  The  glow  of  the  fire  fell 
over  Agnes'  face,  and  Frank,  looking  out  from  the  shadow 
where  he  sat,  watched  her  unobserved.  After  a  short  time 
she  arose  and  went  out.  He  followed,  and  found  her  standing 
at  the  open  door.  The  full  moon  made  a  second  day,  softer 
and  purer  than  sunshine,  and  by  its  radiance  he  saw  the  same 
expression  of  weary  impatience,  of  doubt,  and  of  grief. 

He  stood  beside  her  for  a  few  moments  without  speaking, 
and  then  brought  a  shawl  and  wrapped  it  about  her,  saying 
the  air  was  keen,  and  she  might  take  cold. 

"  Shall  we  go  in  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  0,  no  !  Stay  a  while.  I  always  make  it  a  point  of  duty, 
to  stay  out  a  little  while,  such  nights  as  these,  so  as  to  pat 
ronize  the  moon,  and  let  her  know  her  efforts  are  appreciated. 
She  does  the  best  she  can  at  shining,  poor  thing !  " 

Agnes  looked  at  him  with  a  faint  smile.  "  You  are  always 
light-hearted  !  "  she  said. 

"  I  am  ?  —  Agnes,  at  this  moment  I  am  ready  to  go  mad 
with  disappointment  and  envy.  Your  own  heart,  with  all  the 
burden  of  grief  you  will  not  let  us  share,  is  not  heavier  than 
mine." 

His  voice  was  full  of  bitterness  and  reproach ;  but  she 
answered,  meekly, 

"  Forgive  me !  I  know  they  who  jest  are  not  always  gay. 
But  you  have  seemed  happy.  What  has  happened  to  change 
you  so  ?  " 

He  seized  her  hand,  and  bent  down  to  look  into  her  face,  as 
he  answered, 

21* 


246  AGNES. 

"Shall  I  tell  you?  0,  Agnes,  why  will  you  waste  on 
another  the  love  I  would  give  my  life  to  win  ?  " 

Her  startled  look  of  terror,  as  she  shrank  back  into  the 
shadow,  arrested  the  words  which  crowded  to  his  lips. 

He  stood  still,  quivering  with  excited  feeling,  and  she 
replied,  hesitatingly, 

"  What  do  you  mean ?  How  did  you  know?  Frank,  what 
is  it  you  are  saying  ?  " 

"  I  say,  I  love  you  !  "  he  exclaimed,  impetuously.  "  Don't 
be  frightened,  Agnes !  I  know  very  well  it 's  no  use.  But 
why  must  Percy  win  everything  ?  Honor,  fame,  —  accident 
may  give  me  these,  as  they  have  been  given  to  him ;  but  how 
shall  I  gain  the  love  he  has  stolen  from  me  ?  " 

The  rigid  tension  of  her  hand  relaxed,  and  she  no  longer 
strove  to  free  it  from  his  grasp.  She  came  again  into  the 
light,  and  said,  calmly, 

"  You  mistake.  I  like  you  far  better  than  I  do  him.  You 
have  always  been  kind  to  me,  but  he  treats  me  coldly.  It  is 
so  easy  to  suspect  the  unfortunate ! " 

"  He  shall  not  suspect  you.  Give  me  the  right  to  protect 
you,  —  be  my  wife,  Agnes,  —  and  you  shall  be  loved,  honored, 
sheltered,  in  a  heart  that  can  never  grow  cold  or  change." 

She  turned  away  her  eyes  from  that  pleading  gaze,  and 
said,  mournfully, 

"  You  should  not  speak  so.  I  have  no  right  to  hear  sudi 
words.  Consider  what  it  is  you  ask.  You  know  nothing  of 
my  past  life  —  nothing  of  me,  except  what  you  have  seen 
during  our  brief  acquaintance.  No,  Frank,  it  cannot  be ! " 


THE     GOLDEN     RULE.  247 

"  What  do  I  care  for  the  past  ?  "  he  said.  "  Do  you  sup 
pose  I  have  stopped  to  weigh  chances,  and  make  cool  calcula 
tions  ?  Good  heavens  !  how  little  you  know  of  love !  I  see 
that  you  have  suffered ;  and,  if  you  are  not  willing  to  tell  me 
how,  I  believe  you  have  good  reason  for  silence.  I  think  I 
love  you  better  because  I  have  pitied  you  so  much.  Agnes, 
the  future  shall  bring  you  peace.  I  will  give  you  home  and 
friends,  and  you  shall  be  happy,  whether  you  want  to  or  not. 
Speak  !  are  you  listening  to  me  ?  " 

With  a  quick  motion  she  sank  down  on  the  doorstep,  and, 
bending  forward,  laid  her  head  upon  his  feet,  and  burst  into  a 
violent  paroxysm  of  weeping.  Frightened  and  perplexed,  he 
sat  down  and  endeavored  to  soothe  her.  She  did  not  seem  to 
heed  him,  but  in  a  short  time  hushed  her  grief  as  suddenly 
as  she  had  yielded  to  it,  and,  with  a  self-control  wonderful  to 
see,  withdrew  herself  from  his  protecting  arm,  and  answered 
him  calmly  and  with  firmness,  though  the  pathos  of  her  voice 
deepened  as  she  proceeded. 

"  How  shall  I  ever  thank  you  for  such  love,  such  confi 
dence?  0,  Frank,  I  never  heard  words  like  these !  I  never 
knew  of  an  affection  so  noble,  so  generous !  I  would  rather 
perish  here  this  moment  than  give  you  pain ;  but,  believe  me, 
I  can  never,  never  be  your  wife.  I  shall  go  away  from  here 
soon,  —  I  can  find  employment  in  nursing  the  sick  at  Morris- 
town,  —  and  after  I  am  gone  I  will  write  to  your  mother  all 
she  has  wished  to  know  about  me.  I  see  now  it  would  have 
Seen  better  to  have  told  my  whole  story  at  once ;  but  I  dreaded 
to  do  it.  I  have  been  unfortunate,  and  people  have  so  doubted 


248  A  G  N  E  a . 

me,  so  insulted  me,  because  of  my  misfortunes !  Good  and 
honorable  men  and  women  are  sometimes  very  hard  upon 
those  they  think  have  done  wrong.  I  feared  —  I  feared  you 
all ;  though,  indeed,  I  am  innocent  of  evil.  And,  if  I  love 
another,  in  spite  of  the  bitter  past,  God  knows  I  have  little 
hope.  I  am  very,  very  unhappy.  Pity  me,  but  do  not  love 
me,  for  I  can  never  be  your  wife !  " 

She  glided  away  into  the  darkness  of  the  entry  and  up  the 
narrow  stairs,  leaving  him  agitated  by  a  mighty  conflict  of 
compassion  and  dread. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

THE    ESTRAY. 

FOR  some  time,  after  his  conversation  with  Agnes  on  that 
eventful  evening,  Frank  paced  restlessly  along  the  lonely, 
moonlit  road.  His  heart  and  brain  seethed  painfully  with 
bitter  and  perplexing  thoughts  of  life  and  fate;  and  he 
almost  doubted  the  benignant  Power  above,  which  controls  the 
results  of  human  action.  Agnes'  words  had  hinted  darkly  at 
something  he  had  never  allowed  himself  to  fear  concerning 
her.  A  barrier,  more  insurmountable  than  her  affection  for 
another,  seemed  rising  between  them ;  and,  bravely  as  he 
struggled  against  it,  he  could  not  resist  the  sick  feeling,  that, 
though  he  might  shield  her  from  further  misfortune,  his  love 
could  be  but  a  mockery,  and  her  decision  was  just. 

Suddenly,  when  he  had  reached  the  point  where  the  road 
passed  from  the  clearing  into  the  surrounding  forest,  a  figure 
stood  in  the  path  before  him.  So  unconscious  was  he  of  its 
approach,  so  erect  and  still  it  stood,  that  he  looked  twice 
before  he  assured  himself  it  was  Lawontica.  Even  when  she 
dropped  from  her  shoulders  the  blanket  which  had  half  hidden 
her  face,  he  hardly  knew  how  to  address  her,  for  they  had  not 


250  AGNES. 

met  since  their  angry  parting  by  the  spring ;  but,  as  he  hesi 
tated,  she  came  forward  and  laid  her  hand  familiarly  on  his 
shoulder.  The  moonlight  shone  full  in  her  face,  and,  though 
she  smiled  and  gave  him  the  usual  greeting  —  "  poc-we,  noc~ 
sewun-minat !  "* — there  was  a  gleam  in  her  eyes  that  startled 
him. 

"  Have  you  forgiven  me  ?  "  he  said. 

She  laughed,  and  nodded  her  head  assentingly. 

"  I  shall  begin  to  be  afraid  of  you,  if  you  are  going  to  be 
such  a  stormy  character ! "  he  added.  "  Don't  you  feel 
ashamed  of  yourself,  to  think  how  you  treated  me,  the  other 
day  ?  " 

Again  she  laughed  and  nodded,  but  there  was  a  strange, 
metallic  ring  in  the  sound,  and  something  shot  across  her 
face,  as  if  a  cloud  had  passed  over  the  moon,  and  its  shadow 
had  fallen  upon  her. 

Frank  was  in  an  excited  mood,  and  her  looks  and  gestures 
made  him  nervous. 

"  Why  don't  you  speak?  "  he  said,  sharply.  "  You  might, 
at  least,  say  you  won't  do  so  again ;  —  you  owe  me  as  much 
of  an  apology  as  that !  " 

Her  hand  dropped  from  his  shoulder,  and  she  drew  back  a 
little,  with  a  shrinking  motion,  as  if  his  words  had  hurt  her. 
He  noticed  it,  and  said,  in  a  more  good-natured  tone, 

"  I  shall  be  owing  you  an  apology,  if  I  'm  cross  much 
longer,  you  think,  don't  you?  But,  indeed,  Lawontica,  I  'm 
out  of  sorts  to-night,  and  I  'm  scolding  myself  more  than  you!  ' 

*  How  do  you  do,  brother  ? 


*  THEESTRAY.  251 

"  S'pose  'urn  Indian  girl  go  'way — white  man  no  see  'urn 
any  more  —  no  speak  'um  bad  or  good !  To-mollow  me  go  — 
sartin  me  go  to-mollow." 

She  watched  him  nervously  as  she  spoke.;  but,  though  at 
another  time  he  would  have  expressed  surprise  and  real 
sorrow  at  such  news,  he  was  then  too  much  absorbed  in 
his  late  disappointment  to  give  heed  to  anything  else,  and 
only  replied  carelessly,  with  a  slight  lifting  of  the  eye-brows, 

"  Ah !  what 's  that  for?     Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

She  drew  herself  up,  with  a  superb  haughtiness,  that  well 
became  her  queenly  form,  and  the  tone  of  her  reply. 

"  Lawontica  is  the  great  chiefs  daughter.  Me  very  high 
in  my  own  peoples.  Tamaque  is  one  very  great  brave.  Me 
go  'way  with  him  to  the  lodge.  He  be  my  husband !  " 

"  So  you  are  going  to  be  married !  "  said  Frank,  aroused  to 
interest  by  the  information.  "  Well,  we  shall  be  sorry  to 
lose  you ;  but  pretty  girls  will  get  married  !  Come  and  see 
us  once  in  a  while,  won't  you,  and  bring  along  your  sanop.* 
We  '11  make  you  a  wedding  cake,  if  we  are  ever  lucky  enough 
to  have  any  more  plums !  —  By  the  way,"  he  added,  mis 
chievously,  "  don't  scold  your  husband,  will  you?" 

"  Gome  and  see !  "  she  replied,  pouting  a  little,  as  she  was 
wont  to  do  when  he  teased  her. 

"  It 's  too  long  a  tramp  through  the  woods,  and  I  believe 
you  have  no  carriage-road  to  your  palace ! "  he  answered,  gayly. 

She  echoed  the  laugh,  though  not  very  heartily,  and  asked, 
pointing  to  the  farm-house, 

*  Husband. 


252  AGNES. 

"  You  mother  —  he  up  there  ?  " 

"No,  she  is  in  Morristown.  But  father  is  there,  and 
Agnes.  Go  on ;  they  '11  be  glad  to  see  you.  I  '11  be  there 
soon." 

She  left  him  and  entered  the  dwelling.  The  old  farmer, 
with  whom  she  was  a  favorite,  welcomed  her  cheerfully,  and 
Agnes  urged  her  to  partake  of  their  frugal  meal,  which  had 
just  been  placed  on  the  table.  She  declined  eating,  but  took 
her  accustomed  nook  by  the  fire.  She  talked  more  than 
usual  during  the  evening,  manifesting  no  embarrassment 
when  rallied  respecting  her  approaching  marriage,  and 
appearing  in  good  temper  and  fine  spirits.  To  Frank  and 
Agnes  her  presence  was  an  unexpected  relief  from  their  own 
thoughts,  and  they  were  very  glad  when  she  consented  to 
remain  until  morning.  They  were  a  merry  group  around  the 
hearth  that  evening.  The  old  farmer  wondered  at  the  sup 
pressed  excitement  he  detected  in  each  glancing  eye  and 
burning  cheek,  but  he  little  suspected  the  cause. 

When  the  hour  arrived  for  retiring  to  rest,  Lawontica 
persisted  in  wrapping  herself  in  the  blanket  and  lying  down 
before  the  kitchen  fire,  upon  a  skin  spread  for  her  accom 
modation.  Here,  with  mutual  good-night  wishes,  the  family 
left  her. 

In  the  morning,  Frank  arose  early  to  make  the  fire.  He 
was  not  surprised  to  find  the  humble  pallet  empty,  for  she 
had  told  them  she  should  leave  before  daylight ;  but  Agnes 
did  not  appear  at  the  usual  time,  and  after  Mr.  Grey  had 
arisen,  and  they  had  waited  until  surprise  changed  into  anxiety, 


THEESTRAY.  2t>3 

the  farmer  went  to  her  door  and  knocked  repeatedly,  without 
receiving  any  reply.  He  could  not  think  her  asleep  at  that 
hour,  and,  in  great  alarm,  opened  the  door.  The  room  was 
empty.  The  bed  had  been  occupied,  and  the  coverings 
thrown  off,  as  if  she  had  risen  hastily,  but  nothing  was  dis 
turbed  or  out  of  place. 

Mr.  Groy's  exclamation  of  dismay  brought  Frank  to  his 
side.  "She  has  gone  —  0,  heavens!  where  has  she  gone? 
Am  I  to  blame  for  this?"  he  cried,  in  self-reproach  so 
violent,  that  his  father  asked  what  he  could  mean  by  such 
words.  With  rapid  and  confused  syllables  he  confessed  his 
love  for  Agnes,  and  their  conversation  the  previous  evening. 
When  he  had  finished,  his  father  stood  a  few  moments  in 
deep  thought,  and  then  replied, 

"  'T  an't  that,  I  tell  you !  Sich  a  good  little  cretur  as  she 
was  wouldn't  go  off  any  sich  way,  to  scare  us  most  out  o' 
our  senses.  Besides,  she  said  she  was  going  to  Morristown, 
and  the  natural  way  would  be  to  go  over  this  mornin'  with 
Percy  when  he  goes  back ;  and  you  see  she  an't  took  her 
clothes  —  they're  all  in  the  closet  there." 

Frank  glanced  at  the  open  closet,  and  then,  with  blank  face, 
at  his  father. 

"What  can  it  be?"  and  then,  with  sudden  lighting  up  of 
hope,  "  Perhaps,  after  all,  she  is  only  gone  out  for  a  walk 
with  Lawontica,"  he  said. 

"  Nonsense !  What  would  she  go  to  walk  for,  afore  sunrise, 
this  cold  mornin',  and  a  snow-storm  comin'  on  ?  " 

"What  then?  We  must  do  something  —  we  must  look 
22 


254  AGNES. 

somewhere  !  "  exclaimed  Frank,  impatiently.  "  It  'a  been 
snowing  all  night,  too,  and  we  may  not  be  able  to  track  her." 

"  Never  see  nothin'  like  it  in  this  world  !  "  ejaculated  the 
old  man,  thoughtfully.  "  If  she  was  carried  off,  Lawontica 
is  to  the  bottom  of  it !  " 

"  Impossible  !     She  would  n't  do  such  a  thing  !  " 

Mr.  Grey  shook  his  head,  in  a  slow,  deliberative  manner. 

"  Them  Injins  is  plaguy  onsartin,  deceitful  creturs !  I 
would  n't  trust  'em  —  not  one  on  'em  !  " 

"  But,  Lawontica  —  the  young  girl  we  have  known  so 
long !  how  could  she  be  concerned  in  such  a  scheme,  and 
what  motive  could  she  have  for  harming  Agnes  ?  But  don't 
waste  anymore  time  in  conjectures  —  let's  see  if  there  is 
any  trace  of  footsteps  about  the  doors." 

A  light  snow  had  fallen  during  the  night,  obliterating  all 
traces  made  previously ;  but,  from  the  back  door,  upon  this 
new  snow,  were  the  marks  of  Lawontica's  moccasins.  These 
were  followed  down  the  valley,  through  the  woods,  and  even 
to  the  path  up  the  hillside,  and  the  door  of  the  wigwam  — 
those  two  regular  footsteps,  and  no  others  near.  Evidently, 
if  Lawontica  had  had  any  hand  in  Agnes'  abduction,  she  had 
not  accompanied  the  kidnappers,  and  Frank  was  therefore 
not  surprised  to  find  her  seated  before  her  grandmother's  fire. 
Her  few  articles  of  clothing  were  in  a  heap  on  the  couch  of 
skins  beside  her,  and  the  curtain  which  had  separated  it 
from  the  rest  of  the  apartment  was  taken  down.  She  was 
packing  up  her  possessions  for  a  final  removal. 

She  looked  up,  with  an  air  of  indifference,  when  he  entered, 


THE     ESTRAY.  255 

and  to  his  impetuous  questions  answered,  curtly,  that  she  had 
left  the  house  about  midnight,  as  she  had  slept  long  enough, 
and  found  there  were  indications  of  a  storm ;  but  it  com 
menced  snowing  before  she  reached  the  woods,  and,  finding  the 
moon  had  set,  she  concluded  to  return  and  wait  till  morning. 
When  she  went  out  she  shut  the  door,  but  when  she  returned 
she  found  it  open.  She  had  heard  nothing,  and,  supposing  the 
wind  blew  it  open,  laid  down  upon  the  warm  hearth  and  slept 
until  morning.  The  snow  had  ceased  falling  when  she  came 
home  in  the  early  dawn.  She  saw  no  traces  of  footsteps,  and 
heard  no  sounds  of  violence  during  the  night. 

So  much  she  told  readily,  manifesting  neither  curiosity  nor 
sorrow  at  Agnes'  disappearance;  nothing  more  could  be 
elicited  by  the  most  skilful  cross-questioning,  either  from  her 
self  or  from  Sanoso,  who  corroborated  her  statements  as  far 
as  she  was  able,  and  sustained  a  similar  indifference  to  the 
object  of  his  inquiries.  He  could  not  decide  if  it  were  Indian 
stolidity,  or  offended  innocence,  which  caused  this  want  of 
sympathy  in  his  trouble,  or  if  it  was  part  of  a  deep-laid 
Bcheme  of  treachery.  Utterly  foiled  in  his  purpose,  he  was 
obliged  to  return  home  as  ignorant  as  he  left ;  but  it  was 
some  relief,  when  he  arrived  there,  to  find  his  mother  and 
Percy  waiting  for  him,  with  faces  as  anxious  as  his  own. 

Some  moments  were  spent  in  a  hurried  discussion  of  the 
case.  It  seemed  impossible  that  Agnes  could  have  been 
carried  from  the  house  by  force,  without  arousing  any  of  the 
family ;  and  it  was  equally  impossible  that  she  could  wilfully 
have  stolen  away,  without  leaving  one  word  to  assure  them  of 


256  AGNES. 

her  safety,  without  taking  any  change  of  clothing,  or  even 
such  garments  as  were  necessary,  in  order  to  brave  with 
impunity  the  winter  night.  Treachery  must  have  been  at 
work ;  and  to  whom  could  suspicion  point,  except  to  the  young 
girl  to  whom  they  had  shown  such  continual  kindness  ?  What 
her  motive  might  be,  what  cause  she  had  of  enmity  towards 
Agnes,  their  imaginations  failed  to  conjecture ;  but  it  was 
resolved  to  pursue  the  search  in  that  direction.  Agnes  could 
not  have  gone  to  Morristown,  or  the  returning  party  would 
have  met  her ;  and  Frank  took  the  sleigh  to  drive  down  the 
road  leading  to  the  coast,  and  make  inquiries,  while  Percy 
and  his  mother  went  to  Sanoso's  wigwam.  An  hour  or  two 
had  elapsed  since  Frank's  visit  there,  and,  as  they  came  near, 
they  saw  six  or  eight  Indian  warriors  in  a  group  around  the 
door,  and  Sanoso  taking  leave  of  her  grandchild  in  a  shrill, 
wailing  chant,  that  reached  them  with  a  boding  sound,  even 
before  they  could  see  the  hut.  They  hastened  on,  but,  the 
moment  they  were  visible,  some  one  seemed  to  warn  the 
others ;  the  chant  ended  abruptly,  Sanoso  withdrew  into  her 
dwelling,  and  the  party  started  off  through  the  woods  at  a 
pace  which  made  it  useless  to  think  of  detaining  them. 

"  Lawontica  is  determined  to  avoid  us  —  that  looks  suspi 
cious,"  said  Percy.  "We  must  see  what  we  can  do  with 
Sanoso." 

"  I  have  less  hope  of  gaining  the  truth  from  her  than  from 
the  girl,"  replied  his  mother.  "  She  used  to  deceive  me  fre 
quently  ;  but  Lawontica'e  face,  if  not  her  lips,  would  always 


THE     ESTRAY,  257 

tell  me  truly.  Thee  knows  how  she  seemed  to  scorn  herself 
for  a  lie." 

"  Yes,  her  faults  were  those  of  a  bold  and  impetuous,  and 
not  of  a  sly,  artful  character ;  and,  even  now,  I  can  hardly 
believe  she  was  concerned  in  Agnes'  disappearance.  May  it 
not  be  possible  the  girl  has  quietly  withdrawn,  to  prevent  the 
trouble  she  feared  to  make  by  a  longer  stay  in  our  family  ?  " 

Mrs.  Grey  shook  her  head  negatively,  and  they  walked  on 
in  silence  until  they  reached  the  door  of  the  wigwam.  The 
curtain  was  closed  and  fastened,  but  it  yielded  to  Percy's 
impatient  pull,  and  they  saw  Sanoso  standing  in  the  centre  of 
the  room,  in  an  attitude  of  defiance  at  their  intrusion. 

"  What  for  you  here  for  ?  Me  no  want  'um  see  anybody !  " 
she  exclaimed. 

"  Sanoso,  thee  has  just  lost  a  daughter  —  thee  should 
know  how  to  pity  me.  Do  tell  me  if  thee  knows  anything 
about  Agnes  —  the  poor,  young  thing,  who  has  been  like  a 
daughter  in  our  house  this  winter  ?  " 

"Me  lose  'um  daughter  —  what  for?"  replied  Sanoso, 
angrily.  "Once  my  peoples  all  one  —  live  all  together;  — 
s'pose  my  daughter  married,  her  lodge  little  way  off —  me  see 
'um  every  week  —  very  much  me  glad.  Now  my  peoples  all 
gone ! " 

She  took  a  handful  of  corn  from  the  mortar  near,  and  scat 
tered  it  around  the  cabin.  "  Just  so  —  all  gone,"  she 
repeated,  sorrowfully ;  and  then  again,  fiercely,  "  All  gone !  — 
who  threw  'um  'way  so  ?  —  who  steal  the  land  ?  —  who  cut 
22* 


258  AGNES. 

down  the  trees  ?  White  mans !  Always  white  mans  very 
bad  to  poor  Indian." 

"  Thee  speaks  the  truth  only  in  a  measure,  Sanoso,"  said 
Mrs.  Grey,  motioning  to  her  son  to  be  silent.  "  I  know,  verily, 
that  the  land  about  here  was  bought  and  paid  for,  and  thy 
tribe  was  very  willing  to  move  away  and  make  room  for  the 
settlers.  Others  might  have  done  wrong,  but  thee  should  n't 
blame  us  for  what  we  condemn  as  much  as  thee  does." 

"  Paid  for  !  "  said  Sanoso,  scornfully.  "  Very  much  you 
know  what  pay!  S'pose  white  man  say  he  buy  'um  little 
land,  he  take  large  piece  —  give  Indian  fire-water  —  lum  *  — 
steal  away  his  think  —  then  he  cheat  him  easy.  When  he 
want  'um  anything,  he  say,  '  brother,  brother '  —  then  he 
kick  'um  like  dog,  and  say,  '  get  out ! ' " 

The  wrinkled  old  face  really  glowed  with  the  fire  of  youth, 
as  she  recounted  the  wrongs  of  her  nation,  and  her  auditors 
looked  at  each  other  in  surprise  at  the  truthful  picture  she 
presented.  But  they  could  not  afford  to  waste  time  thus, 
when  every  moment  was  precious ;  and  Mrs.  Grey  replied,  in 
a  soothing  tone,  which,  probably,  had  more  effect  because  the 
short-lived  anger  had  expended  itself  in  words. 

• 

"  Sister,  when  thee  was  sick  I  took  thee  to  my  house  and 
took  care  of  thee.  It  was  a  long  winter  and  a  cold  winter, 
but  none  of  thy  people  came  to  look  after  thee,  to  see  thee 
did  not  starve  and  freeze.  My  boys  brought  thee  wood  and 
food  to  eat.  Who  was  kindest  to  thee  then  ?  Thee  is  an 
old  woman ;  thee  has  lived  here  many  years ;  did  any  man 

*  Rum. 


THE     ESTRAY.  259 

ever  do  thee  wrong?  Is  not  the  land  wide  enough  for  us 
all  ?  Why  should  thee  quarrel  with  thy  friends  ?  " 

Sanoso  made  no  reply,  but  sat  down  in  the  chimney-corner, 
and,  leaning  her  head  upon  her  hands,  recommenced  her  wail 
ing  chant,  "  nosa,  ahkie,  nosa  !  "  * 

Mrs.  Grey  sat  down  beside  her,  and,  imitating  her  attitude, 
joined,  with  her  low,  gentle  voice,  in  the  monody.  The  old 
woman  could  not  help  betraying  her  surprise  at  this  unex 
pected  proceeding,  but  persisted  in  the  song  for  a  few 
moments,  until,  yielding  gradually  to  the  spell  of  those  plain 
tive  tones,  her  voice  grew  fainter,  and,  ceasing  abruptly,  she 
turned,  and  said, 

"  Qua,t  sister  ?  What  for  you  come  here  for,  ask  me  'bout 
your  daughter  ?  " 

"  Thee  can  tell  me,  Sanoso,  if  Lawontica  has  been  con 
cerned  in  taking  her  away  ;  thee  must  know  it.  Understand, 
we  do  not  say  she  has  been  carried  off  by  force,  or  that  thy 
people  mean  to  do  her  any  harm ;  but  we  think,  even  if  she 
wished  to  go  with  thy  child,  we  ought  to  go  after  her  and 
bring  her  home.  She  is  not  fit  to  live  in  the  woods,  and  we 
must  find  her.  Will  not  thee  tell  us  what  thee  knows  ?  " 

"  Sanoso  no  know  'um  nothin  !  "  she  replied,  earnestly. 

"  Is  it  possible?  0,  don't  say  so !  Tell  me  the  truth  about 
it.  We  won't  blame  you.  There  are  some  things  that  make 
us  think  Agnes  may  have  wished  to  go  with  your  people. 
Do  tell  me  the  truth  ?  " 

"  Sister,"  repeated  the  old  woman,  solemnly,  "  long  time 

*  My  child  —  alas  !  my  child  !  t  Well. 


260  A  G  N  E  8  . 

ago  me  bad  woman,  me  no  care  nothin'  'bout  nothin',  'cept 
what  me  eat  an'  drink,  an'  keep  me  warm  in  winter ;  —  me 
lie,  me  steal  —  me  ve'y  bad  woman.  But  me  no  know  me 
bad  —  me  no  tink  'bout  it.  One  day  you  sanop,*  he  say, 
'  Sanoso,  you  lie  so,  sartin  devil  he  catch  you ! '  Then  me 
frightened,  me  'fraid  stay  alone,  me  tink  all  time  '  devil,  he 
catch  me.'  Well,  one  day  me  go  to  your  house  —  me  feel 
ve'y  bad  —  me  no  eat,  no  drink  —  look  ve'y  sober.  You  say, 
what  the  matter  ?  I  tell  you.  You  tell  me,  don't  be  fright 
ened  —  devil  no  catch  you,  'cause  you  solly.  Then  you  read 
me  out  the  Bible  'bout  Saysoos,t  how  he  love  us.  That  just 
what  me  want.  Then  me  ve'y  happy.  Now  me  ve'y  good 
—  me  no  lie  —  sister,  me  no  lie  'bout  this.  Sartin  me 
hope  go  Wahsoke  $  when  me  die,  me  know  nothin'  'bout 
this ! " 

The  impressiveness  of  her  manner  compelled  belief,  but  left 
her  hearers  more  than  ever  perplexed  in  regard  to  the  mys 
tery  which  shrouded  Agnes. 

"  If  such  is  the  case,  we  must  not  delay  here  longer,  except 
to  find  out  which  way  Lawontica  has  taken,"  said  Percy, 
speaking  for  the  first  time. 

"  The  trail  is  open  !  "  replied  Sanoso,  sententiously. 

"  That  is  true,  and  so  broad  a  trail  must  be  easily  followed. 
We  will  collect  the  neighbors,  and  make  preparations  to  start. 
Come,  mother ! " 

After  a  few  words  of  sympathy,  which  their  own  trouble 
did  not  make  her  forget  to  speak  to  Sanoso,  Mrs.  Grey  and 
*  Your  husband.  f  Jesus.  $  Heaven. 


THE     ESTRAY.  261 

Percy  left  the  wigwam.  Soon  after  they  arrived  at  home, 
Frank  returned,  with  a  dejected  face,  telling  his  ill-success. 
But  his  inquiries  had  aroused  their  neighbors  to  interest,  and 
in  a  few  hours  a  band  of  eight  men,  headed  by  Frank  and  his 
brother,  set  out  for  the  rescue. 

They  were  not  experts  in  this  business,  for  their  relations 
with  the  Indians  had  been  so  peaceful  as  to  afford  them  little 
experience  in  the  wiles  of  savage  warfare.  So  much  time 
also  had  been  lost  in  preparation,  that  they  had  not  gone  half 
a  dozen  miles  before  darkness  closing  in  compelled  them  to 
pause  in  their  search.  The  next  morning,  they  started  with 
the  earliest  light,  but  so  much  snow  had  fallen  that  the  trail 
became  more  and  more  obscure.  Frank's  impatient  heart  was 
like  to  break  with  the  frequent  mistakes  and  pauses  of  the 
party ;  and,  but  for  his  overpowering  earnestness,  they  might 
have  turned  back  in  discouragement.  At  length,  they  found 
the  smouldering  fire  of  the  last  night's  encampment,  and, 
perceiving  they  were  right  thus  far,  went  on  more  hopefully ; 
but  again  the  twilight  of  the  short  winter  day  induced  a  ces 
sation  of  their  labors,  and  the  object  of  their  journey  was  not 
accomplished.  Burning  with  anxiety,  Frank  left  the  party 
cooking  supper  over  the  fire  they  had  made  in  a  secluded 
hollow,  and  climbed  to  the  top  of  a  craggy  hill  near,  in  a 
faint  hope  of  seeing  or  hearing  some  indication  of  the 
Indians.  The  country  around  was  wild  and  broken,  but  a 
stream  of  some  width  had  worn  for  itself  a  way  through  the 
hills,  and,  looking  down  the  opening  thus  made,  he  fancied 
something  like  the  reflection  of  a  light  was  visible  through 


262  AGNES. 

the  murky  air.  Pausing  a  moment,  to  satisfy  himself  it  was 
not  the  rising  moon,  he  retraced  his  steps,  and  imparted  to  his 
companions  his  suspicions.  Percy  and  two  others  followed 
him  in  the  direction  indicated.  They  walked  down  the  frozen 
bed  of  the  stream  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  when,  at  a  sudden 
bend,  the  brightness  increa'sed,  and  a  few  more  rods  brought 
them  in  full  view  of  a  large  camp-fire  glancing  from  behind 
low  bushes  which  bordered  the  brow  of  a  precipice  over 
looking  the  river. 

"  This  is  not  favorable  to  our  hopes,"  said  Percy,  arresting 
his  brother's  eager  steps. 

"  Why  not  ?  There  is  the  light  —  let 's  make  for  it,  and 
see  if  she  is  there." 

"  She  is  not  there,  I  am  sure.  A  party  who  had  a  captive 
to  guard  would  never  make  a  fire  in  that  spot,  the  most  con 
spicuous  in  all  the  country  round." 

Percy's  comrades  felt  the  truth  of  this  remark,  and,  for  a 
few  moments,  none  replied.  In  the  darkness  they  heard 
Frank  grinding  his  teeth  with  the  suppressed  breathing  of 
excitement  and  distress. 

"  What  shall  we  do,  then?  "  said  one. 

"  I  will  creep  forward  till  I  can  get  a  view  of  them,  and 
then,  if  she  is  not  there,  we  will  go  back  for  the  rest  of  our 
party,  make  a  dash,  take  them  prisoners,  and  force  them  to 
tell  us  where  she  is." 

This  was  Frank's  whispered  plan,  and  he  was  starting  off 
to  perform  it,  when  Percy  again  detained  him. 

"  It  is  folly  to  think  of  such  a  thing.     We  are  too  few  to 


THE     ESTRAY.  263 

hope  for  success  if  we  attack  them,  and  we  ought  not  to  com 
plicate  matters  with  the  Indians  by  killing  any  of  them  just 
now,  when  no  troops  can  possibly  be  spared  to  guard  the 
frontiers.  Beside,  they  must  know  we  would  follow  them, 
and  are  doubtless  on  the  watch.  Let  us  go  forward  boldly, 
like  friends,  and  see  what  will  come  of  it." 

"  And,  if  we  fail  ?  "  asked  Frank,  gloomily. 
."  Remember  we  han't  no  reason,  except  there  an't  nowhere 
else  to  look,  for  thinking  the  girl  is  here,"  interrupted  one 
of  the  party.  "  More,  also,  how  do  we  know  but  she  come 
of  her  own  accord,  if  she  be  here?  I  confess,  the  more  I 
think  on 't,  it  seems  to  me  most  likely ;  for  you  say  she  come 
to  your  house  in  a  kind  of  a  wanderin',  vagrant  way.  Who 
knows  but  she  likes  that  sort  of  life  ?  " 

"  Mind  what  you  say  of  her !  "  hissed  Frank,  between  his 
clenched  teeth.  Then  turning  to  his  brother,  he  added,  "  Let 
us  understand  each  other.  Suppose  Agnes  is  n't  there,  what 
do  you  propose  to  do  ?  " 

"  The  only  thing  we  can  do  is  to  go  back,  and  try  if  we 
can  raise  a  force  sufficient  to  go  to  the  Indian  village  and 
negotiate,  if  possible  —  " 

"Yes,  you  will  stop  to  negotiate,  and  negotiate  —  and, 
meantime,  what  will  become  of  Agnes?  I  am  sure  these 
Indians  know  where  she  is,  and  I  '11  follow  'em  to  the  death; 
but  I  '11  find  out  the  secret !  Heaven  forgive  me,  that  I  ever 
thought  well  of  one  of  them !  " 

He  broke  from  Percy's  cautioning  grasp,  and  rapidly 
ascended  the  hill.  The  others  followed  silently. 


264  AGNES.  • 

The  Indians  had  eaten  their  supper,  and  were  lounging 
about  the  fire,  apparently  half  asleep,  but  in  reality  alert  and 
watchful;  for  one  of  them,  in  creeping  through  the  valley  a 
short  time  before,  had  discovered  the  little  party  in  search 
of  them.  As  the  cautious  footsteps  approached,  each  one 
furtively  grasped  his  weapon,  and  braced  his  muscles  for  a 
spring;  and  when  the  first  man  stepped  within  the  circle  of 
bushes  that  formed  a  screen  behind  their  fire,  they  sprang  up 
as  by  a  simultaneous  movement,  and  stood  ready  to  meet  what 
ever  was  to  come.  Behind  them  Lawontica  leaned  against  a 
tree,  where  the  drooping  boughs  half  shaded  her  face  from 
the  firelight.  Frank  advanced  straight  towards  her.  His 
excited,  impetuous  manner  admitted  of  no  opposition,  and  the 
grim  band  opened  to  let  him  pass.  The  girl  raised  herself  to 
receive  him,  and  stood  erect,  graceful,  nonchalant.  Not  the 
quiver  of  a  nerve  betrayed  any  emotion,  as  his  keen  eyes 
seized  upon  hers  with  a  concentrated  power  which  seemed  as 
if  it  would  wring  the  secret  from  her  heart. 

"  Where  is  she  —  where  is  Agnes  ?  "  was  the  abrupt  ques 
tion. 

"  Who  knows?  "  was  the  reply. 

"You  know  —  Lawontica,  you  cannot  cheat  me!  You 
know  where  she  is !  " 

The  light  in  her  eyes  grew  prouder  and  more  defiant,  but 
she  made  no  answer.  He  waited  a  moment,  and  then  added, 
with  more  of  supplication  in  his  tone, 

"You  —  you  that  she  liked  so  well  —  you  that  I  would 
have  trusted  without  a  doubt  —  you  have  stolen  her  away 


THE    ESTKAY.  265 

from  me!  Do  you  know  what  she  is  to  me?  I  say  it 
proudly  before  all  these  —  she  is  dearer  to  me  than  life !  " 

Still  no  answer,  but  the  haughty  lip  curled  and  writhed  in 
a  strange  contortion,  that  might  have  been  of  triumph  or  of 
pain. 

"  Speak  to  me,  Lawontica !  Tell  me,  at  least,  why  you 
have  taken  her,  and  what  price  we  must  pay  to  free  her.  I 
will  coin  my  blood  into  gold,  but  I  will  pay  the  price.  O, 
Lawontica,  have  you  forgotten  what  friends  we  have  been? 
Have  you  no  pity  for  either  her  or  me  ?  " 

She  drew  a  knife  from  her  belt,  and,  clutching  it  firmly, 
held  the  point  towards  him. 

"  So  much!  "  she  said,  with  a  fierce  laugh. 

He  started  involuntarily  from  the  sudden  gesture,  while  the 
cordon  of  Indians  uttered  in  chorus  their  emphatic  grunt  of 
approval,  and  echoed  the  taunting  laugh. 

Percy  and  his  companions,  who  had  been  concealed  behind 
the  bushes,  now  stepped  into  the  light,  and,  taking  this  for  a 
signal  of  attack,  the  Indians  rushed  at  them,  brandishing  their 
tomahawks.  They  hastily  put  themselves  in  a  posture  of 
defence,  but  there  were  reasons  why  neither  party  wished  for 
bloodshed,  and  a  momentary  pause  ensued,  during  which 
Lawontica  threw  herself  between  the  belligerents.  To  her 
Percy  addressed  himself  with  an  attempt  at  pacification,  but 
she  interrupted  him  — 

"  Let  me  talk  now.  Why  you  think  me  know  'bout 
Agnes  ?  Why  you  plague  me  so  ?  Look !  she  no  here  ! 
S'pose  me  steal  her,  what  me  do  with  her  ?  —  what  me  wan* 
23 


266  AGNES. 

'um  steal  her  for  ?  Ugh !  Listen  !  No  more  my  peoples 
call  white  man  brother.  They  dig  up  the  hatchet  —  it  is 
red  —  great  many  white  mans,  his  blood  wet  it.  Now  you 
go  home,  you  safe  —  me  no  want  'um  hurt  you.  S'pose  you 
come  after  me,  maybe  you  get  killed.  Now  me  done 
speaking." 

She  turned  back  to  her  seat  under  the  tree,  and  neither 
entreaty  or  expostulation  could  obtain  another  word  from  her ; 
and  as  the  Indian  warriors  gave  no  indication  of  understanding 
English,  and  returned  only  an  inexpressive  grunt  and  threat 
ening  gestures  to  the  most  skilful  offer  of  treaty,  no  recourse 
remained  but  to  withdraw  and  consult  together  what  should 
next  be  done. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

ADVENTURES   IN    THE   FOEEST. 

HARDLY  a  word  was  spoken  by  any  of  the  party,  as  they 
retraced  their  steps  to  their  own  camp.  All  were  disap 
pointed  at  this  result  of  their  search,  and  most  of  them  ready 
to  decide  that  the  Indians  knew  nothing  of  the  matter.  Yet, 
to  Percy  and  Frank,  Lawontica's  manner  confirmed  instead  of 
lessening  suspicion.  A  long  discussion  followed  before  they 
lay  down  around  the  fire  to  sleep.  Finding  their  neighbors 
bent  upon  returning  home,  the  brothers  yielded  their  own 
wishes,  which  were  for  a  steady  and  stealthy  pursuit,  to  the 
prudent  suggestions  reminding  them  of  the  scanty  prepara 
tion  they  had  made  for  a  long  and  dangerous  journey. 

When  they  arrived  at  home,  and  had  described  their  inter 
view  with  the  Indians,  they  found  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grey  as 
anxious  as  themselves  for  further  search ;  and  Percy  proceeded 
at  once  to  Morristown,  while  Frank  went  in  another  direction. 
His  object  *was  to  obtain  the  services  of  a  man  who  had  had 
considerable  experience  as  a  hunter  and  trader  with  the  In 
dians.  Upon  his  skill  he  relied  to  trace  the  savages  to  their 


268  AGNES. 

village,  and  to  recover  Agnes  by  stratagem,  if  force  or  treaty 
proved  unavailing. 

It  was  on  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day  after  Agnes'  dis 
appearance  that  Percy,  after  eating  supper  with  the  officers 
of  his  mess,  at  their  lodgings  in  Morristown,  walked  to  the 
"  Freemason's  tavern,"  on  the  north  side  of  the  village^  green, 
where  Gen.  Washington  had  established  his  head-quarters. 
As  he  passed  under  the  poplars  that  stood  like  giant  sentinels 
before  the  house,  he  met  Major  Hoops,  who  was  one  of  the  aids 
much  in  the  general's  confidence,  and  the  frequent  bearer  of 
dispatches.  In  a  moment's  conversation  he  imparted  the  object 
of  this  visit,  but  received  little  encouragement  that  it  would 
meet  with  success ;  and,  with  an  anxious  heart,  he  was  ushered 
into  the  apartment  where  Gen.  Washington  was  then  sitting. 

The  general  was  in  full  dress,  for  he  had  that  "day  enter 
tained  the  officers  at  dinner,  and  wore  the  blue  and  buff  which 
pictures  and  the  patent  office  have  since  made  so  familiar  to 
all  Americans.  He  was  busily  engaged  in  writing,  as  was 
also  a  slight,  fair  young  man,  who  sat  at  a  table  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  fire ;  and,  with  a  brief  apology  for  so  doing,  Gen. 
Washington  continued  his  employment  until  he  had  finished 
and  sealed  the  dispatches  upon  which  he  was  engaged. 

Then  he  turned  to  his  guest,  and  listened  attentively  while 
Percy  related  concisely  what  he  knew  of  Agnes  and  the  cir 
cumstances  attending  her  loss,  requesting  permission,  to  march 
with  a  sufficient  force  into  the  Indian  territory,  and  rescue 
the  missing  girl,  or  satisfy  himself  she  was  not  there. 

When  he  had  finished,  the  general  mused  for  some  time  in 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  269 

silence,  his  thoughtful,  care-laden  brow  indicating  the  earnest 
ness  with  which  his  mind  was  working.  At  length,  he  said, 

"  Of  one  thing  I  think  you  may  be  sure.  The  party  you 
pursued  had  not  the  captive  in  charge.  You  were  upon  the 
wrong  trail." 

"  Is  that  possible  ?  And  we  wasted  so  much  time  !  "  ex 
claimed  Percy. 

"  If  you  had  been  a  little  better  acquainted  with  Indian 
tactics,  you  would  have  known  that,  had  they  wished  to  avoid 
pursuit,  they  would  have  covered  their  trail.  My  early  ex 
perience  west  of  the  mountains  taught  me  so  much,"  he  added, 
with  a  smile. 

"  But,  your  excellency,  this  party  was  so  large  that  conceal 
ment  would  have  been  difficult,  and  they  might  have  trusted 
to  the  snow  which  was  falling  to  hide  the  track." 

"  No".  Savages  do  not  trust  so  lightly.  And  a  much 
larger  party  would  have  been  able  to  go  on  their  way  without 
leaving  marks  which  an  inexperienced  eye  could  detect.  If 
this  young  lady  was  abducted  by  the  Indians,  her  captors 
have  taken  a  different  direction." 

"  Yet,  sir,  I  think  I  must  be  correct  in  accusing  Lawontica. 
No  one  else  could  have  had  any  motive  in  attempting  such  an 
outrage  ;  and  we  are  morally  certain  Agnes  did  not  leave  my 
father's  house  willingly." 

"  And  what  motive  could  this  Indian  princess  have  for 
causing  so  strange  an  accompaniment  to  her  wedding  jour 
ney  ?  " 

Percy  hesitated,  and  then,  with  a  smile,  replied,  "  There  is 
23* 


270  AGNES. 

but  one  imaginable  motive,  and  this  so  ridiculous  I  am  half 
ashamed  to  name  it.  I  think  it  has  never  occurred  to  my 
brother,  and  did  not  to  myself  until  during  our  last  meeting 
with  Lawontica.  If  she  had  been  a  white  woman,  I  should 
have  said  she  was  jealous  of  Agnes." 

"  Ah,  that  makes  the  thing  more  probable,1  said  the  gen 
eral,  returning  Percy's  smile.  "  And  did  your  brother's  con 
duct  warrant  such  jealousy  ?  " 

"  Not  particularly.  But  this  Indian  girl  has  been  in  the 
habit  of  coming  to  our  house  familiarly  during  some  years, 
and  she  may  have  misinterpreted  my  brother's  friendship  as 
the  sign  of  a  warmer  feeling.  We  all  liked  Lawontica.  It 
is  hard  for  us  to  believe  she  has  been  so  treacherous." 

"  What  you  have  said  supplies  a  motive  for  the  deed,  as 
revenge  is  a  virtue  with  the  savage.  But  the  party  you  fol 
lowed  must  have  acted  only  as  a  decoy,  while  the  real' object 
of  pursuit  got  off  safely ;  and  that  supposes  a  degree  of  cun 
ning  beyond  the  ordinary  range  of  Indian  intellect.  Their 
stratagems  are  usually  of  the  simplest  kind,  and  all  laid  upon 
one  plan.  Once  you  have  mastered  one  set,  the  others  are 
but  repetitions.  Was  this  Indian  girl  of  quick  wit  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  more  than  usually  ready  to  catch  at  an  idea,  or 
follow  out  a  suggestion.  She  was  of  a  bold,  imperious  dispo 
sition,  though  not  what  one  would  call  ill-tempered,  except  on 
a  few  occasions,  lately.  I  cannot  think  she  will  be  cruel  to 
Agnes,  or  allow  others  to  be  so ;  and  yet,  of  course,  we  shall 
feel  great  solicitude  until  we  at  least  know  what  has  happened 
to  her." 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOKEST.  271 

"  Of  course,"  replied  the  general ;  and  his  noble  face  grew 
shaded  and  perplexed  again,  as  he  sank  into  a  fit  of  musing, 
taking  up  his  pen,  now  and  then,  to  make  a  few  figures,  as  if 
he  was  going  through  with  calculations.  Then,  looking  up 
with  an  expression  that  showed  he  felt  the  disappointment  he 
was  compelled  to  inflict,  he  said, 

"  You  ask  for  soldiers  to  go  into  the  Indian  territory,  and 
I  wish  most  sincerely  it  was  in  my  power  to  detail  a  company 
for  that  service.  But,  Major  Grey,  in  this,  as  in  so  many 
other  enterprises,  the  ruinous  system  of  short  enlistments, 
which  has  been  persisted  in,  in  spite  of  my  urgent  remon 
strances,  ties  my  hands.  The  few  troops  left  me  here  are 
being  decimated  by  the  small-pox,  and,  though  I  have  san 
guine  hopes  that  the  worst  is  past,  and  recruits  will  come  in 
to  fill  up  the  army  for  the  spring  campaign,  at  present  I  have 
hardly  enough  to  defend  this  position,  if  we  should  be  at 
tacked.  This  is  not  to  be  spoken  of  everywhere,  of  course. 
At  present  we  live  by  making  a  show  of  strength.  But  I 
think  Mr.  Hamilton,  here,  will  agree  with  me  that  to  spare 
you  a  force  sufficient  for  your  purpose  just  now  would  be  to 
risk  sacrificing  the  army  and  the  country  to  the  welfare  of  an 
individual." 

At  being  thus  addressed,  Alexander  Hamilton — for  he  was 
the  delicate-looking  youth  busy  at  the  other  table  —  glanced 
up  from  his  writing,  and  said,  quickly, 

"  Perhaps  I  should  suggest,  what  your  excellency  may  have 
forgotten,  that  the  Tory,  Robert  Rogers,  the  captain  of  the 
band  calling  themselves  the  Queen's  Rangers,  —  which  Gen. 


272  AGNES. 

Lee  routed  last  November,  you  remember,  —  was  detected 
about  the  outposts  of  Gen.  Heath's  camp,  on  the  Hudson,  a 
few  weeks  since,  disguised  as  an  Indian.  He  escaped,  but  is 
supposed  to  have  his  head-quarters  somewhere  near  the  Penn 
sylvania  border.  Could  not  something  be  effected  towards 
his  capture  by  those  whose  ostensible  object  should  be  the 
recovery  of  this  English  girl,  and  thus  the  country  and  the 
individual  both  be  served  ?  " 

"  Don't  tempt  me,  my  son,"  said  Gen.  Washington,  smiling, 
with  an  expression  at  once  sad  and  pleased.  "  Your  sugges 
tion  is  valuable,  but,  if  I  listen  to  it,  who  shall  hinder  the 
spies  that  may  report  our  utter  weakness  here,  and  bring 
upon  us  the  King's  Rangers  from  their  camp  at  Brunswick  ? 
My  inclinations  join  with  yours  in  wishing  to  serve  a  family 
that  has  supplied  us  with  two  gallant  soldiers ;  but,  as  I  said, 
my  hands  are  tied." 

"  You  are  right,  sir,"  replied  Hamilton,  "  and  Major  Grey's 
known  patriotism  can  be  relied  upon  to  console  him  under 
this  personal  disappointment." 

"  If  I  could  but  raise  a  company  of  volunteers,  now,  and  at 
once  rescue  Agnes  and  take  that  Rogers  prisoner,  what  a 
brilliant  dash  it  would  be !  "  said  Percy,  with  kindling  eyes. 

"  And  what  a  brilliant  episode  in  the  tedious  dulness  of 
this  winter !  "  added  Hamilton.  "  My  dear  sir,  take  me  as  a 
volunteer !  " 

"  Nay,  not  so.  We  cannot  spare  you,  and  Major  Grey  will 
not  want  a  rival  to  dispute  the  honors  of  his  achievement. 
But,  should  you  succeed  in  raising  a  company,  if  arms  and 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  278 

ammunition  are  wanted,  I  may  help  you  to  them ;  though 
they  are  nearly  as  hard  to  obtain  and  as  scarce  as  men." 

The  smile  faded  from  the  general's  lips,  as  he  uttered  these 
last  words,  more  to  himself  than  to  his  auditors  ;  and  Percy 
took  his  leaye  soon  after,  almost  satisfied  to  be  denied,  since 
the  denial  was  accompanied  with  such  assurances  of  sympathy 
and  regard. 

But  the  raising  of  a  company  of  volunteers  was  a  thing  more 
easily  projected  than  performed.  The  actual  demands  of  the 
war  formed  a  burden  so  heavy  that  it  was  difficult  to  supply 
motive  sufficient  for  any  extra  effort,  and  a  week  elapsed 
before  a  band  of  twenty  could  be  collected.  Then,  a  succes 
sion  of  storms,  rendering  travelling  through  the  forest  imprac 
ticable,  delayed  them  some  days  longer.  Frank  became  taci 
turn  and  gloomy.  His  sanguine  and  genial  temper  seemed  to 
have  deserted  him  during  this  trial,  and  he  was  heard,  more 
than  once,  to  declare,  with  a  sort  of  wonder,  that,  after  all,  he 
was  not  the  luckiest  fellow  in  the  world.  In  his  first  expedi 
tion  to  the  woods,  he  had  accidentally  hurt  the  hand  which 
had  but  just  healed,  and  the  fever  of  mind  and  body  affected 
the  wound.  It  became  inflamed  and  painful,  and  when  at 
last  the  party  started,  he  accompanied  them  with  one  hand  in 
a  sling. 

So  much  time  had  now  been  lost  that  they  relinquished  their 
first  plan  of  following  the  savages  to  their  village.  They 
obtained  from  Sanoso  sufficient  knowledge  of  its  locality  tc 
enable  them  to  find  it,  and  Lawson,  the  hunter,  who  had  been 
in  the  towns  near  it,  advised  that  they  should  take  the  county 


274  AGNES. 

road  across  to  Easton.  From  thence  a  bridle-path,  easily 
traced,  led  through  the  forest  to  Wyoming,  and  along  the 
river  to  the  falls  of  Wyalusing.  Here  was  a  small  settlement 
of  whites  and  friendly  Indians,  who  had  chosen  to  remain  when 
the  Moravian  mission  at  Gnadenhutten  was  broken  up,  the 
preceding  year.  This  route,  though  circuitous,  was  much 
easier  than  to  pursue  the  direct  path  through  a  wild,  unbroken 
wilderness.  At  Wyalusing  they  left  their  horses,  and,  taking 
advantage  of  the  smooth,  frozen  bed  of  the  creek,  followed  it 
to  its  source,  and  then,  striking  into  the  woods,  proceeded 
cautiously  in  an  eastern  direction.  After  travelling  with 
much  difficulty,  for  twenty  miles,  over  the  hills  and  through 
valleys  filled  with  tangled  thickets,  they  reached  a  stream 
running  to  the  north.  Here  they  camped  for  the  night,  keep 
ing  only  a  very  small  fire,  lest  the  smoke  should  betray  them 
to  some  passing  Indian. 

The  next  morning  they  went  on  along  the  bank  of  the 
stream.  The  way  was  toilsome  and  precipitous,  but  they 
dared  not  leave  the  shelter  of  the  trees,  for  fear  of  discovery, 
and  after  about  ten  miles  it  entered  a  gorge  between  two 
mountains.  The  bed  was  now  one  solid  sheet  of  ice,  but  its 
curled  and  uneven  surface  told  how  the  waters  must  foam 
and  rush  when  freed  from  the  stern  grasp  of  winter. 

The  party  were  here  compelled  to  climb  the  mountain,  as 
Lawson  was  sure  they  were  near  the  Iroquois  villages  for 
which  they  sought.  After  some  hard  work,  they  came  out 
upon  the  precipice  above  the  stream.  Percy  Grey  was  the 
foremost  man,  and  a  few  more  steps  showed  him  a  pretty 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  276 

little  picture  of  savage  life.  The  brook  here  made  a  sudden 
turn  to  the  west,  and  the  rocky  mountain  raised  itself  like  a 
perpendicular  wall  on  one  side,  for  a  hundred  feet  or  more. 
The  upper  surface  of  this  ledge  rounded^out  from  the  belt  of 
forest,  a  broad,  flat  rock,  more  than  a  rod  in  width.  Below, 
the  stream,  which  here  was  narrow  and  deep,  washed  the  base 
of  the  precipice,  while  on  its  opposite  side  lay  a  strip  of  inter 
vale  land,  where  a  small  village  had  been  located.  There 
were  about  a  dozen  huts  scattered  along  the  bank,  and  in  the 
cleared  space  between  them  and  the  opposite  mountain  stood 
one  larger  than  the  others,  which  was  used  for  a  council- 
house.  The  Indians  were  passing  in  and  .out  among  the 
huts,  and  a  few  children  were  playing  together  here  and 
there.  The  scene  was  quiet  and  cheerful,  with  the  morning 
sunshine  glistening  upon  the  snow  that  floored  the  valley  as 
with  purest  marble,  and  crested  every  crag  and  stone,  and  the 
broad  cones  of  the  fir-trees,  with  capitals  of  silver  frost-work. 
But  Percy  took  one  glimpse  at  the  view,  and  then  drew 
back  hastily  into  the  shelter  of  the  forest.  A  hurried  consult 
ation  followed.  Frank  had  no  doubt  this  was  the  place 
Lawontica  had  so  frequently  described  to  him,  but  Lawsou 
was  quite  sure  that  Tamaque*  and  Puschiis.t  her  father, 
lived  at  a  larger  village,  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain. 
As  there  was  no  appearance  of  any  body  of  warriors  here,  it 
was  deemed  advisable  to  go  to  the  latter  village  first,  and  at 
least  reconnoitre  the  ground  before  deciding  what  should  be 
done. 

*  The  Beaver.  f  The  Ckt. 


276  ,  AGNES. 

They  knew  the  great  body  of  the  Iroquois  had  taken  up  the 
war-hatchet  against  the  American  army ;  and,  although  these 
frontier  villages,  being  inhabited  partly  by  Delawares,  had 
hitherto  maintained  ^a  neutral  position,  their  pretensions  of 
friendliness  were  not  to  be  trusted  while  a  man  like  Rogers 
was  in  their  midst.  Lawson  therefore  advised  the  party,  of 
which  he  was  now  elected  captain,  pro  tern,  to  secrete  them 
selves  in  some  safe  nook,  while  he  went  into  the  village,  as  if 
on  an  ordinary  expedition  for  collecting  peltry. 

So  long  as  they  remained  high  up  the  mountain-side  they 
were  comparatively  safe;  for  the  hunters  seek  their  game 
along  the  sheltered  levels  and  in  the  valleys,  where  instinct 
teaches  them  to  resort,  leaving  the  cold,  bleak  heights  solitary 
at  this  season. 

Having  proceeded  further  around  the  mountain,  they  found 
a  nook  where  they  were  screened  from  the  wind;  and,  not 
daring  to  make  a  fire,  they  broke  down  branches  and  built  a 
sort  of  hut  against  the  rocks,  into  which  they  all  huddled, 
striving  to  keep  warm. 

It  was  nearly  noon  when  Lawson  had  left  them,  and,  with 
a  hunter's  pack  upon  his  back,  descended  towards  the  village 
of  Umquabog.  This  consisted  of  thirty  or  forty  houses, 
placed  in  two  rows,  parallel  to  each  other,  in  the  broad  and 
pleasant  valley  which  here  skirted  the  mountain.  The  Iro 
quois  huts  were  either  square  or  oblong  buildings,  constructed 
of  bark  nailed  to  a  rude  frame,  made  by  sticking  poles  into 
the  ground,  and  securing  them  in  place  by  cross-beams  lashed 
along  the  sides  and  across  the  tops.  The  roof  was  made  by 


ADVEN TUBES     IN     T  II  E     FOREST.  277 

poles  bent  in  the  form  of  an  arch,  and  fastened  on  each  side 
to  the  frame.  Over  these  bark  was  laid,  shaved  smooth,  and 
lapped  over  like  large  tiles.  In  the  centre  of  the  roof  a  hole 
was  left  as  an  outlet  for  the  smoke.  These  dwellings  were 
not  often  more  than  eight  feet  in  the  highest  point,  and  the 
walls  were  but  five  feet.  Where  the  possessor  had  some  idea 
of  beauty  and  comfort,  they  were  hung  inside  with  mats  or 
skins,  neatly  sewed  together,  making  a  warm  and  elegant 
tapestry ;  but  many  of  them  were  destitute  of  this. 

The  earthen  floor  was  left  to  be  pounded  hard  and  smooth 
by  the  feet  of  its  occupants ;  beds  of  boughs,  covered  with 
skins,  occupied  the  corners,  and  in  the  centre  a  fire  was  kept 
burning.  Small  openings  were  often  cut  in  the  walls,  over 
which  a  sliding  panel  of  wood  was  arranged  to  admit  or 
exclude  the  light.  The  doors  were  usually  one  large  piece  of 
bark  placed  outside  the  wall  against  a  corresponding  opening, 
but  sometimes  a  curtain  upon  the  inside  was  added. 

On  one  side  of  the  houses,  which  generally  were  placed  in 
a  row,  was  the  field  where  the  Indian  women  worked  together, 
cultivating  the  corn  and  vegetables  used  by  their  families. 
This  spot  was  enclosed  by  a  fence  to  keep  out  the  animals ; 
and  when  the  land  in  any  place  became  too  poor  to  support 
the  inhabitants,  the  town  was  removed,  sans  ceremonie,  to  a 
richer  locality. 

Umquabog  was  one  of  the  few  places  which  had  retained 

its  identity  through  several  generations,  as  the  surrounding 

valleys  were  very  fertile.     Between  its  two  rows  of  huts  was 

a  street  several  rods  in  width ;  and  when  Lawson  appeared  at 

24 


278  AGNES. 

one  end  of  it,  a  horde  of  warriors,  half-grown  boys,  squaws, 
and  vagabond  whites  who  were  their  guests,  poured  out  of  the 
low  doors  to  see  the  new  arrival.  At  first  they  were  inclined 
to  treat  him  civilly,  and  were  curious  to  know  what  was  in 
his  pack.  But  the  chief,  Puschiis,  with  some  of  the  leading 
warriors,  had  been  talking  in  their  hut  with  Rogers  and  his 
associate,  and  when  these  mingled  with  the  crowd  hostile 
looks  and  words  became  more  frequent. 

Lawson  was  a  brave  man,  and,  stepping  boldly  up  to  the 
chief,  whom  he  had  formerly  known,  he  told  him  he  had  come 
to  buy  skins,  and,  as  a  token  of  his  good  faith,  held  out  a 
string  of  wampum.  But  Puschiis,  after  regarding  him 
steadily  for  a  moment,  threw  the  wampum  at  his  feet,  and, 
turning  his  back  upon  him,  went  into  the  house,  followed  by 
his  warriors. 

According  to  Indian  customs,  a  greater  insult  than  this 
could  not  have  been  offered,  and  Lawson  knew  it  would  be 
useless  to  attempt  further  conversation.  The  crowd  around 
set  up  a  shout  of  derision,  mingled  with  yells  and  cries,  that 
made  the  place  seem  like  a  pandemonium.  The  hunter 
turned  about,  and,  facing  them  with  undaunted  looks,  passed 
through  their  midst  unmolested,  and  slowly  withdrew  in  a 
direction  opposite  to  that  by  which  he  entered  the  village. 
By  so  doing  he  gained  an  opportunity  to  look  into  the  huts  as 
he  passed,  and  to  satisfy  himself  that  Agnes  was  not  there. 
He  wished  also  to  mislead  any  who  might  dog  his  steps,  and 
it  was  after  sunset  before  he  rejoined  his  companions  in  their 
hiding-place. 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  279 

They  had  spent  a  comfortless  day,  and  the  report  he 
brought  was  not  encouraging.  It  seemed  to  be  folly  to  think 
of  attacking  or  surprising  Rogers  while  surrounded  by  fifty 
stalwart  warriors.  They  had  hoped  by  some  fortunate  chance 
to  capture  him  and  make  a  rapid  retreat ;  but  this  was  plainly 
impossible,  and  their  own  escape  from  the  hostile  and  drunken 
horde  became  a  hazardous  matter.  But  Frank  urged  that 
they  should  at  least  make  an  attempt  at  the  village  on  the 
other  side  the  mountain.  Lawson  had  seen  neither  Tamaque 
or  Lawontica  among  the  crowd  at  Umquabog,  and  he  hoped 
that  Agnes  was  with  them  in  their  bridal  home.  Every 
moment  so  large  a  party  remained  in  the  vicinity  was  indeed 
perilous ;  but  to  return,  without  one  effort  to  regain  the  lost, 
was  to  make  the  expedition  wholly  fruitless,  and  they  readily 
yielded  to  his  wishes. 

The  next  morning,  as  soon  as  there  was  light  enough  to 
move  with  safety,  they  left  the  hut.  At  first  they  could 
hardly  move  their  cramped  and  chilled  limbs ;  but  the  exercise 
of  walking  gradually  restored  warmth  and  energy,  and  they 
went  on  more  cheerfully.  Yet  their  motions  were  cajitious 
and  silent,  and  at  times  Lawson,  whose  quick  ear  detected  the 
faintest  sound,  made  them  sink  down,  as  he  had  taught  them, 
behind  rocks  and  bushes,  for  concealment ;  but  the  chance  foot 
steps  were  not  attracted  that  way,  and  they  arrived  in  safety 
upon  the  broad,  overhanging  shelf  of  rock  from  whence  Percy 
had  first  seen  the  little  hamlet  of  lodges  in  the  vale  below. 

Two  huge  boulders  rested  on  the  extreme  edge  of  this  rock, 
and,  catching  the  soil  at  their  base,  were  half  covered  with 


280  AGNES. 

creeping  vines,  that  in  summer  must  have  festooned  around 
them  with  picturesque  effect.  A  large  bush  had  grown  up 
between  them,  forming  a  screen,  through  which  the  strangers 
could  with  safety  look  down  into  the  very  heart  of  the  village. 

Between  these  boulders  and  the  forest  that  clothed  the 
mountain  the  rains  had  washed  bare  the  upper  surface  of  the 
rock  for  a  space  a  rod  wide  and  several  rods  in  length.  Upon 
this  the  tracks  they  had  made  the  previous  day  were  visible, 
and  beside  them  were  seen  the  fresh  prints  of  a  moccasin. 
Lawson  pointed  them  out  to  his  companions,  saying,  "  Heaven 
send  these  were  made  in  the  dark ;  for  if  an  Indian  passed 
over  here  yesterday,  we  are  lost !  " 

"  Perhaps  all  the  Indians  are  not  so  unfriendly  as  those  at 
Umquabog,"  suggested  Percy. 

"  I  would  n't  give  much  to  choose,  after  what  you  said 
about  that  Injin  gal  when  you  saw  her.  She  told  you  they  'd 
dug  up  the  hatchet,  and  I  reckon  she  told  the  truth." 

"  Is  there  no  place  about  here  where  you  can  be  more  com 
fortable  than  we  were  yesterday?  The  air  pierces  like  a 
knife,  up  here  on  the  mountain,  if  one  is  not  exercising.  If 
you  know  of  such  a  place,  it  would  be  best  for  Frank  and  I 
to  go  directly  to  this  village,  and  see  what  we  can  do  by 
negotiation.  Of  course,  we  must  abandon  the  idea  of  an 
attack.  We  had  better  keep  our  lives  till  it  would  do  some 
good  to  throw  them  away." 

The  hunter  thought  a  moment,  and  then  said,  in  reply  to 
Percy, 

"  There  is  a  cave  somewhere  on  this  mountain,  and,  if  I 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOKEST.  281 

an't  mistaken,  't  an't  far  from  hereabouts.  I  think,  maybe,  I 
can  find  it,  anyways,  if  you  will  wait  here  a  while.  But, 
Major  Grey,  I  an't  sure  but  you'll  throw  away  your  lives 
just  as  much  if  you  go  down  there,  as  if  you  stood  up  to  be 
shot  at.  Something  has  riled  these  Injins  —  that 's  evident 
—  and  't  an't  safe  to  risk  'em." 

"  You  did  not  mind  the  risk,  and  why  should  we  ? "  said 
Percy. 

"  Ah !  but  the  risk  is  more  for  you  two.  I  went  in  trading, 
and  they  all  knew  me.  Besides,  you  two  —  why,  you  're  all 
there  is  left  of  your  family,  an't  you  ?  "  said  Lawson,  whose 
rough  but  generous  nature  had  been  touched  by  the  gallant 
bearing  of  the  brothers. 

His  words  caused  a  shade  to  pass  over  their  faces,  as  they 
remembered  those  waiting  their  return  at  home,  and  Frank 
said,  impetuously, 

"  I  will  go  alone  !  I  shall  be  ashamed  to  show  myself  at 
home,  if  I  don't  succeed  in  this  matter ;  but  you,  Percy,  must 
not  risk  yourself." 

"  Pooh!  what  is  life  to  me  now?"  said  Percy,  half  aloud. 
The  bitter  words  had  escaped  unconsciously. 

Frank  started,  and  looked  at  him  anxiously.  He  had  been 
so  calm,  so  thoughtful,  so  considerate  of  others,  so  interested 
in  this  affair,  that,  amid  his  own  anxiety,  Frank  hid  forgotten 
the  well-spring  of  grief  whose  hidden  waters  now  for  a 
moment  overflowed.  It  was  only  for  a  moment.  Frank 
pressed  his  brother's  hand  softly,  and  whispered, 

"  For  the  sake  of  the  old  folks  at  home,  Percy ! " 
24» 


282  AGNES. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Percy,  aloud,  in  a  cheerful  tone.  "  I  do 
not  forget  them ;  but  there  is  really  little  for  us  to  fear.  Our 
friend,  here,  exaggerates  the  danger.  It  may  be  that  Lawon- 
tica  has  not  the  influence  with  her  tribe  we  imagine  she  has ; 
but.  if  we  are  not  mistaken  there,  we  are 'safe,  though  it 
might  not  be  safe  for  others  to  venture  into  the  village.  So, 
if  you  can  find  your  cave,  Mr.  Lawson,  the  sooner  you  do  so 
the  better,  for  see  —  the  sun  is  rising." 

"  Keep  still  here,  then,  till  I  come  back,"  said  Lawson, 
and  disappeared  behind  the  trees. 

His  companions  concealed  themselves  as  well  as  they  could 
among  the  rocks  and  bushes.  The  wild  spot  afforded  many  a 
hiding-place,  and  Frank  was  fortunate  enough  to  secure  one 
where,  by  lying  flat  on  the  ground,  he  was  screened  from  obser 
vation,  and  yet  could  project  his  head  far  enough  over  the 
cliff  to  obtain  a  view  into  the  village. 

As  the  sun  rose  higher,  and  darted  his  beams  down  into 
the  deep  and  narrow  valley,  the  doors  of  the  lodges  were  one 
after  another  thrown  back,  and  the  inmates  came  forth  to 
breathe  the  fresh  air.  The  men  soon  disappeared  again,  but 
the  women  passed  in  and  out,  with  arms  full  of  brushwood,  and 
soon  a  curling  smoke  from  the  top  of  each  wigwam  told  that 
they  were  cooking  breakfast  before  the  fires  where  their  lords 
were  lounging  in  lazy  dignity.  At  the  furthest  point  of  the 
village,  where  the  stream  that  watered  the  base  of  the  moun 
tain  made  a  sudden  turn  around  a  high  bank  and  crossed  to 
the  other  side  of  the  valley,  stood  a  lodge  far  superior  to  the 
test  in  size  and  in  beauty  of  structure.  Frank's  attention 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  283 

had  been  instinctively  fixed  upon  this,  as  more  likely  than 
any  to  be  Lawontica's  home,  and  he  was  right  in  his  conjec 
ture.  As  he  watched  it,  the  curtain  was  lifted,  a  tall  form 
bowed  itself  in  the  low  doorway  and  came  out,  holding  the 
curtain  with  one  hand,  and  standing  a  few  moments,  as  if  talk 
ing  to  some  one  within.  Then  the  lithe,  graceful  figure  of  the 
Indian  princess  came  and  stood  beside  him.  Even  at  that  dis 
tance,  Frank  was  sure  he  could  not  be  mistaken ;  and,  as  he 
saw  Lawontica,  a  short  time  after,  engaged  in  the  household 
duties  of  the  lodge,  bringing  wood  and  water,  while  her  hus 
band  smoked  his  pipe  at  the  door,  he  smiled  to  contrast  her 
present  humility  with  the  arrogance  he  had  once  seen  her 
display. 

In  about  an  hour  Lawson  returned.  He  had  found  the 
cave,  but  informed  them  that,  though  the  snow  around  was  not 
tracked,  wampum  and  other  articles  were  hung  upon  the  inside 
near  the  entrance,  indicating  it  was  sometimes  occupied.  How 
ever,  they  could  not  remain  in  their  present  position,  exposed 
to  discovery  by  every  chance  straggler  from  the  village,  and  it 
was  thought  best  to  resort  to  the  cave,  which  Lawson  reported 
to  be  dry  and  warm.  In  going  there  they  took  the  greatest 
precautions  to  hide  their  footsteps,  by  walking  in  Indian  file 
each  one  being  careful  to  step  exactly  where  his  predecessor 
had  done  ;  and,  as  they  all  wore  moccasins,  and  turned  their 
toes  in,  as  the  natives  do,  a  casual  observer  would  have  said 
only  one  of  the  tribe  had  passed  that  way.  Lawson  had 
earned  this  trick  in  his  past  sojournings  among  the  Indians. 
They  reached  the  cave  unseen.  It  was  about  half-way 


284  AGNES. 

between  the  base  of  the  mountain  and  the  place  where  they 
had  waited,  and  so  far  around  on  its  southern  slope  as  to  be 
quite  out  of  the  way  of  people  passing  between  the  two  vil 
lages.  The  mountain  was  less  precipitous  here  than  on  its 
eastern  side,  but  for  a  few  rods  around  the  mouth  of  the  cave 
the  path  lay  along  a  ledge  so  narrow  that  they  could  only 
maintain  a  foothold  by  clinging  to  the  bushes  growing  in  the 
steep  bank  above.  Fortunately,  this  ledge  was  free  of  snow, 
as  was  also  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  which  was  low,  and  over 
hung  with  vines. 

After  passing  the  entrance,  they  found  the  cave  expanded 
into  a  room  nearly  twenty  feet  square,  and  high  enough  to 
allow  them  to  stand  upright.  Its  floor  was  strewed  with  dead 
leaves  so  thickly  as  to  make  it  probable  human  hands  had 
brought  them  there ;  and  the  vines,  hanging  like  a  curtain  over 
the  opening,  were  matted  and  woven  together,  as  if  human  art 
had  assisted  nature.  From  this  they  concluded  that  the  place 
was  probably  inhabited  in  summer,  but  in  the  winter  left 
unoccupied ;  and  thus,  though  its  existence  was  known,  they 
imagined  themselves  safe  there  for  a  little  while. 

Leaving  their  comrades  hidden,  Frank  and  Percy  descended 
to  the  village.  It  was  their  intention  to  keep  within  the 
woods  until  they  reached  a  point  opposite  Lawontica's  lodge, 
and  then  cross  the  stream  on  the  ice,  and  present  themselves 
at  her  door  before  they  were  seen  elsewhere.  But,  in  their 
ignorance  of  the  path,  losing  the  right  direction,  they  came 
out  opposite  the  heart  of  the  village,  and  before  retreat  among 
the  trees  was  possible  they  happened  to  be  seen  by  some 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  285 

young  men  playing  foot-ball  on  the  ice.  An  instant  yell  told 
that  a  dozen  Indians  were  swarming  up  the  mountain  aftei 
them. 

To  descend  and  meet  these  was  the  safest  way,  and  the 
brothers  ran  swiftly  down  the  precipitous  bank,  now  bare  of 
trees,  clinging  to  the  bushes,  sliding  and  jumping  with  an 
agility  that  eluded  their  pursuers,  and  brought  them  safe  upon 
the  ice  before  the  young  Indians  had  climbed  half-way  to  the 
spot  where  they  were  first  seen.  But  the  older  warriors  had 
taken  the  alarm,  and,  uncertain  what  the  yells  resounding 
through  the  air  might  mean,  they  grasped  gun  and  tomahawk, 
and  ran  to  the  place  whence  the  noise  proceeded.  Six  of 
them  stood  ready  to  surround  and  seize  the  two  young  men 
the  moment  their  feet  landed  on  the  level  floor  of  the  stream. 
The  youths,  who  had  gone  but  little  way,  returned,  and  in 
another  moment  Percy  and  Frank  found  themselves  in  the 
centre  of  a  group  of  whooping  savages,  whose  exulting  and 
furious  gestures  menaced  instant  death. 

At  this  moment  all  presence  of  mind  deserted  them,  and 
they  made  one  vain,  frantic  effort  to  escape.  They  were 
knocked  down,  their  arms  bound,  and  before  they  could 
recover  their  senses  fully  their  captors  had  borne  them  in 
triumph  to  the  village. 

A  fire  had  just  been  built  in  the  council-house,  around 
which  the  chiefs  had  met  to  consider  certain  belts  of  wampum 
sent  them  the  preceding  day  from  Onondaga,  the  principal 
town  among  the  Six  Nations.  To  this  they  now  repaired, 
leaving  the  prisoners  for  the  present  at  the  mercy  of  the 


286  AGNES. 

younger  part  of  the  community.  Among  these  was  a  tall, 
powerful  warrior,  named  Shamokin,  the  war-captain  of  his 
tribe,  and  a  deadly  foe  of  the  white  race. 

The  captives  had  been  placed  in  a  hut  on  the  margin  of  the 
stream,  and  Shamokin,  standing  at  its  entrance,  harangued 
the  assembled  crowd  with  great  fluency.  Percy  and  Frank 
could  not  understand  his  dialect,  but  the  gestures  and  scalp- 
yells  that  replied  to  him  at  every  pause  told  his  speech  boded 
no  good  to  them.  They  looked  in  vain  for  Lawontiea,  who 
seemed  to  be  the  only  one  of  all  the  village  absent  from  the 
spot,  and  their  inquiries  elicited  no  satisfactory  answer. 

At  length,  after  much  noise  and  confusion,  Shamokin  and 
two  others  entered  the  hut  and  seized  them,  as  if  to  drag  them 
out  among  the  crowd.  Frank's  wound  disabled  him,  but 
Percy  was  strong  of  limb,  and  had  managed  to  free  his  arms 
from  their  bonds.  Without  much  difficulty  he  shook  off  his 
antagonist,  and  exclaimed,  in  the  broken  English  the  natives 
recognized  more  readily  than  a  purer  vernacular, 

"  Stop  !  What  for  you  pull  me  and  my  brother  ?  We 
men  of  peace.  We  come  smoke  with  you.  What  for  you 
treat  us  so  ?  " 

He  raised  himself  to  his  full  height  as  he  spoke,  and  his 
cool,  determined  bearing  had  the  effect  he  intended  upon  those 
present.  Several  were  looking  in  at  the  door,  and  responded 
with  a  grunt  of  admiration.  He  had  calculated  that  if  they 
did  not  understand  the  words,  his  manner  would  command 
some  degree  of  respect ;  but  Shamokin  responded,  in  tolerable 
English, 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  287 

"  Good !  "White  man  brave.  No  cry  like  a  woman.  No 
run  away.  Come,  then.  Walk." 

He  stood  aside  and  motioned  Percy  to  go  out,  and  the  In 
dian  who  had  seized  Frank  allowed  him  the  same  grace.  But 
Percy  said, 

"  Walk  where  ?  We  come  to  see  Lawontica.  She  married 
to  very  great  chief.  We  bring  her  present.  We  want  to  see 
her." 

"  Indian  —  white  man  no  brother  now  —  no  take  presents. 
The  chiefs  daughter  she  tell  you  we  dig  up  the  hatchet.  You 
come  after  us,  sartin  you  die.  Come,  then.  You  brave  man, 
—  she  say  so.  You  no  'fraid." 

The  Indian  said  thiswith,a  pleased  and  complimentary  air, 
as  if  congratulating  both  himself  and  Percy  on  their  mutual 
appreciation  of  each  other. 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  said  Percy.  "  But  before  you  kill  me 
you  must  let  me  see  Lawontica.  We  very  much  her  friend, 
and  we  have  something  to  tell  her  from  Sanoso." 

"You  no  see  her  —  she  no  see  you,"  replied  Shamokin, 
whom  Percy  supposed  to  have  been  with  Lawontica  when  she 
uttered  the  words  he  had  quoted,  and  to  possess  her  confi 
dence. 

"  Why  will  she  not  see  us  ?  "  he  asked,  with  greater  sink 
ing  of  the  heart  than  he  had  known  before. 

"  She  know  you  here.  Why  she  no  come  ?  She  no  want 
to  see  you." 

An  impatient  yell  from  the  group  without  interrupted  the 
conversation,  and  the  Indian  added,  with  a  significant  gesture, 


288  AGNES. 

"  Go  now.     You  brave  man.     Walk !  " 

They  were  brave  men,  but  it  could  be  pardoned  if  at  that 
moment  their  hearts  fluttered  a  little,  as  they  went  out  from 
the  close  cabin  under  the  bright  sky,  that  might  be  witness 
not  of  death  alone,  but  of  insult  and  torture.  Whatever  they 
might  have  felt,  neither  betrayed  by  faltering  step  or  unsteady 
gaze  the  secret  agitation,  the  rapid  glancing  back  of  memory 
over  each  object  that  had  claimed  interest  or  sympathy 
through  their  lives,  the  shuddering  glance  forward  at  the 
appalling  danger  menacing  them.  The  savages  looked  with 
delight  at  their  calm  faces.  To  kill  such  enemies,  was  to 
rejoice  the  spirits  of  their  ancestors  in  the  happy  hunting- 
grounds. 

When  they  had  walked  a  few  paces  in  silence,  Frank  said, 
in  a  low  tone,  to  his  brother,  whose  arm  was  linked  in  his, 

"  If  they  really  mean  to  kill  us,  would  it  not  be  better  to 
snatch  their  tomahawks  and  defend  ourselves  to  the  last  ?  " 

"  If  it  can  be  done,  we  '11  do  it.  Do  you  suppose  Lawon- 
tica  really  does  not  mean  to  interfere  in  our  behalf?  " 

"  I  can't  tell ;  she 's  incomprehensible  to  me,"  replied 
Frank,  impatiently. 

"  Then  we  must  watch  our  chance,  and  depend  upon  our 
selves.  They  won't  probably  finish  us  this  morning,  at  any 
rate." 

Here  the  Indians  became  suspicious,  and  forced  them  apart. 
The  crowd  proceeded  onward  until  they  reached  a  tree 
standing  alone,  not  many  rods  distant  from  the  council-house. 
Its  branches  had  been  chopped  off  for  twenty  feet  from  the 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  289 

ground,  and  various  marks  upon  its  trunk  showed  that  it  had 
often  been  used  for  the  purpose  to  which  it  was  now  devoted. 

Percy  was  fastened  to  this  tree,  while  Frank,  guarded  by 
two  young  men,  with  his  arms  securely  bound,  was  made  to 
sit  near  and  look  at  the  sport.  The  Indians  divided  into 
two  equal  parties,  and  commenced  playing  a  match-game  at 
throwing  the  tomahawk.  The  bright  missiles  whizzed  through 
the  air,  first  on  one  side,  and  then  on  the  other ;  and  as  the 
person  who  hit  nearest  without  cutting  the  prisoner  claimed 
the  victory  for  his  party,  strong  nerves  were  required  to 
endure  the  ordeal  unmoved. 

The  players  were  skilled  in  the  art,  and  there  was  little 
danger  of  a  serious  wound,  until  excitement  and  rivalry  began 
to  make  them  reckless.  The  steel  quivered  in  the  tree  nearer 
and  nearer,  cutting  the  hair  and  clothing,  and  at  last  grazed 
Percy's  cheek,  and  clipped  a  bit  from  his  ear. 

As  they  saw  the  blood  trickle  down,  there  was  a  shout,  and 
then  a  pause  in  the  play.  They  reckoned  up  the  cuts  on  the 
tree,  and  then  unbound  Percy,  and,  placing  Frank  in  the  same 
position,  were  dividing  to  begin  a  new  game,  when  Lawontica 
suddenly  appeared  among  them. 

She  placed  herself  between  Frank  and  his  tormentors,  and 
commenced  a  rapid  and  energetic  remonstrance  in  their  native 
tongue.  She  was  received  with  scowls  and  looks  of  impa 
tience  ;  for  the  opinion  of  a  young  woman,  albeit  she  was  a 
princess,  was  held  in  low  estimation  with  these  lordly  deni 
zens  of  the  forest.  Her  place  was  in  the  lodge,  her  proper 
conduct  silence  and  humility,  her  "  sphere  "  the  accomplish- 
25 


AGNES. 

ment  of  all  the  labor  she  was  able  to  perform.  Her  admirer 
or  her  husband  might  be  swayed  by  her  wishes,  but  such 
weakness  of  human  nature  was  never  suffered  to  be  known  in 
public. 

Lawontica  had  an  ambition  to  change  all  this,  and  to  ac 
quire  the  influence  and  respect  she  had  seen  white  women 
possess.  When  they  motioned  her  aside,  and  bade  her  no 
longer  interrupt  their  game,  she  cast  upon  them  a  glance  of 
scorn,  and,  turning  quickly,  snatched  a  tomahawk  and  cut  the 
withes  that  bound  Frank  to  the  tree.  It  was  to  him  an  unim 
aginable  relief,  for  they  had  kept  his  hand  in  torture.  As 
she  released  him,  she  said,  rapidly, 

"  No  you  run.  Sartin  'they  catch  you  now.  Wait  till 
night." 

He  took  the  hint,  and  made  no  effort  to  escape.  Indeed, 
the  attempt  would  have  been  fatal,  for,  in  an  instant,  the 
crowd  uttered  the  scalp-yell,  and  closed  around  the  tree. 

Lawontica  kept  firm  hold  of  Frank,  and,  calling  them  to 
follow,  drew  him  slowly  towards  the  house  where  Tamaque 
and  six  other  chiefs  sat  around  the  council-fire.  They  had 
not  been  moved  from  their  deliberations  by  all  the  noise  with 
out.  They  were  divided  in  opinion  with  regard  to  the  pro 
priety  of  the  war  in  which  they  were  invited  to  join ;  and 
some  of  them,  of  whom  Tamaque  was  leader,  had  produced 
the  belt  of  peace,  the  sign  of  former  treaties  of  amity,  while 
others  held  up  the  war-belt  of  black  wampum,  in  which  the 
figure  of  a  hatchet  had  been  worked  in  red.  These  belts,  and 
Borne  of  less  importance,  lay  on  the  ground,  and  Tamaque  had 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  291 

just  concluded  his  speech,  when  the  crowd  of  youths  gathered 
around  the  door,  and  Lawontica  entered  with  her  captive. 
Shamokin,  being  a  war-captain,  did  not  join  the  delibera 
tions  of  the  chiefs ;  but  their  council  was  open  to  the  audience 
of  any,  and  he  now  took  a  seat  behind  one  of  those  most  in 
favor  of  fighting. 

After  a  few  moments  of  silence,  in  accordance  with  Indian 
etiquette,  Lawontica  drew  nearer,  and  began  her  address  in  a 
quiet  tone,  which  grew  more  earnest  as  she  proceeded.  Her 
eyes  flashed  and  her  cheeks  glowed  with  the  excitement  of 
her  unwonted  situation,  but  her  manner  was  calm  and  grave, 
as  became  the  dignity  she  had  assumed.  Translated  into 
English,  her  speech  was  this  : 

"  My  grandfather*,  why  do  you  let  the  young  men  do  a 
foolish  thing  ?  Listen  to  your  granddaughter.  She  has  wis 
dom,  though  there  is  no  snow  in  her  hair.  She  does  not 
laugh  and  talk  with  the  silly  women.  The  little  birds  do  not 
fill  her  ears  with  songs.  She  sits  by  the  fire  all  day  and 
hears  the  great  chief  talk,  and  her  heart  is  full  of  wisdom  at 
his  words.  But  the  young  men  are  foolish.  Your  grand 
daughter  knows  these  two  men.  They  are  great  chiefs  among 
the  white  men.  They  are  friends  to  the  Indian.  You  have 
treated  them  like  enemies,  but  they  are  friends,  and,  in  token 
of  this,  I  give  you  this  string  of  wampum." 

She  held  out  the  string  of  wampum  as  she  spoke,  pretending 
to  take  it  from  Frank  and  present  it  to  the  chiefs ;  but  no 
hand  was  held  out  to  receive  it.  The  peace-party  was  in  the 

*  The  Indians  always  used  the  singular  numl)  ar  in  their  speeches. 


292  AGNES. 

minority,  and  Tamaque,  its  leader,  being  her  husband,  would 
not  seem  to  be  so  much  under  her  influence  as  to  yield  to  her 
words.  His  very  heart  glowed  with  delight  at  her  beauty. 
She  seemed  to  illumine  the  dim  hut  with  the  radiance  of  her 
eyes,  lustrous  beneath  calm  brows,  and  the  shining  masses  of 
her  jet-black  hair,  sweeping  down  from  the  erect,  queenly 
head.  Yet  his  face  assumed  a  stern  expression,  and  he 
answered,  after  an  interval  of  silence, 

"  The  men  are  spies.  One  of  them  was  at  Umquabog, 
yesterday.  They  are  counting  the  number  of  our  warriors. 
They  have  smooth  faces,  but  their  heart  is  the  heart  of  a 
wolf." 

"  Then  the  young  men  are  like  snakes.  They  would 
swallow  their  prey  whole.  Let  them  chew  it,  and  see  how 
sweet  it  is !  "  said  Lawontica,  changing  her  plan  of  entreaty, 
after  a  ^moment  of  thought.  "If  the  two  white  chiefs  are 
spies,  let  them  die,  but  let  them  not  suffer  the  shame  of  dying 
meanly  by  the  blunder  of  the  most  unskilful  thrower.  Will 
not  the  white  man  laugh  at  my  grandfather  ?  Will  they  not 
say  he  does  not  know  how  to  treat  a  brave  foe  ?  Why  should 
my  grandfather  fear  to  keep  his  enemy  alive  until  he  can  find 
out  the  truth  ?  Perhaps  a  bird  has  been  singing  a  foolish 
song  in  his  ear.  Will  he  call  a  friend  an  enemy  that  he  may 
kill  him  ?  Let  the  white  chiefs  be  unbound,  and  let  the 
women  bring  them  food,  that  their  hearts  may  be  strong. 
Let  the  great  chief,  let  Puschiis  be  sent  for,  and  then  let  my 
grandfather  sit  around  the  council-fire,  and  whatever  he 
says,  it  is  good." 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  29S 

Again  she  held  out  the  string  of  wampum,  with  which  the 
Indian  always  concludes  any  important  address ;  and  the 
power  of  her  eloquence  was  seen,  as  an  old  chief,  the  head 
man  of  the  village,  took  it  from  her  hand  and  answered, 

T&e          IH  of  my  daughter  are   good.     Let   the  white 
chiefs  have  food  to  eat." 

This  in  effect  was  an  unler  remanding  the  prisoners  to  their 
hut  for  the  present.  The  authority  of  an  Indian  chief  was 
in  reality  merely  nominal,  except  where  circumstances  gave 
him  a  personal  influence  over  his  followers.  The  most  entire 
liberty  of  action  and  speech  was  guarded  by  each  individual 
with  a  jealousy  that  admitted  of  no  attempt  at  coercion. 
But  there  were  certain  customs  which  long  usage  had  sanc 
tioned,  and  as  this  tribe  had  not  actually  taken  up  the  war- 
hatchet,  it  was  considered  that  the  captain  had  gone  a  little 
beyond  his  prerogative  in  allowing  the  prisoners'  lives  to  be 
hazarded  without  first  consulting  the  chiefs.  Therefore  no 
opposition  was  made  when  Lawontica  led  forth  the  captives 
into  the  open  air,  but  they  were  accompanied  by  few  of  the 
crowd  except  those  who  went  to  guard  them.  Most  of  the 
young  men  stayed  to  hear  the  deliberations  that  followed,  in 
the  council-house. 

Now  that  the  immediate  danger  was  past,  Lawontica  left 
them  abruptly,  as  soon  as  they  were  outside  the  door.  They 
supposed  she  would  soon  return,  and  watched  for  her  all  the 
afternoon  in  vain.  She  sent  them  food,  but  gave  no  heed  to 
the  messages  and  requests  they  sent  her.  They  had  been  con 
ducted  to  a  small  hut,  so  low  they  could  scarcely  stand  in  it, 
25* 


294  A  O  N  E  8  . 

and  an  old  squaw  brought  them  parched  corn  and  venison. 
They  were  then  bound  tightly,  to  prevent  escape,  and  left 
without  guard,  except  the  women  and  young  boys  whose  curi 
osity  kept  them  about  the  door. 

During  the  afternoon  several  persons  arrived  from  the 
other  village,  among  whom  were  Puschiis  and  his  friend 
Rogers.  They  were  received  with  gravity  and  decorum  by 
the  chiefs ;  but  the  rum,  which  was  a  favorite  beverage  at 
these  councils,  was  beginning  to  take  effect.  A  cruel,  ran 
corous  spirit  ruled  the  assembly.  Tamaque,  who  seldom 
drank,  because,  as  he  said,  "  he  did  not  want  to  drown  his 
think,"  was  blinded  and  led  astray  by  a  spirit  even  more 
dangerous.  Knowing  his  influence  with  the  others,  and  hia 
pacific  disposition,  Shamokin,  who  was  his  near  relative, 
managed  to  utter  a  whisper  that  set  his  heart  on  fire. 

"  Tamaque  is  a  great  chief,"  he  said,  "  but  a  woman's  hand 
is  over  his  eyes.  He  cannot  see  his  wife's  lover  when  he 
comes  to  find  his  lodge." 

There  was  no  reply,  but  the  cunning  savage  with  that  word 
had  given  the  clue  to  a  whole  maze  of  mysteries  which  had 
perplexed  his  unsuspicious  relative,  and  roused  a  jealousy 
boundless  as  his  former  trust  in  Lawontica.  He  remained 
silent  for  nearly  an  hour,  that  he  might  not  betray  his  motive 
even  to  the  one  who  suggested  it ;  and  then,  as  if  convinced 
by  the  speeches  of  the  others,  suddenly  seized  the  war-belt 

• 

and  placed  it  in  Shamokin's  hand,  saying,  briefly, 
"  I  give  you  the  two  men,  to  make  soup  of." 
The  fearful  words,  indicating  torture  and  death  to  the  cap- 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOKEST.  296 

tives,  and  war  against  their  nation,  were  received  with  two 
terrific  yells,  which  were  echoed  by  those  in  the  street.  The 
sound  startled  Percy  from  an  uneasy  slumber,  into  which  he 
had  fallen  from  sheer  fatigue.  It  was  now  nearly  dark  out- 
.doors,  and  quite  so  in  their  low  hut,  destitute  of  a  fire  or  light. 

"  How  like  fiends  the  creatures  scream  !  "  said  he.  "  What 
do  you  suppose  that  means  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  much  what  it  means.  I  wish  they  'd  toma 
hawk  me  on  the  spot,  for  this  cord  round  my  hand  puts  me 
in  perfect  misery !  "  replied  Frank,  with  an  irrepressible 
groan. 

"  I  can  imagine  it,  for  my  own  hands  are  not  in  the  most 
comfortable  plight.  I  say,  Frank,  Agnes  must  be  here,  or 
Lawontica  would  not  avoid  us  so." 

"  She  means  to  manage  our  escape,  somehow,"  replied 
Frank,  more  cheerfully,  "  and  that  may  be  one  reason  she 
don't  want  to  be  seen  here  in  the  daytime.  She  said,  '  wait 
till  to-night !  '  " 

At  that  moment  a  figure  darkened  the  doorway,  with  one 
bound  stood  at  Percy's  side,  thrust  into  his  hand  a  knife, 
and  as  suddenly  withdrew.  His  fettered  and  benumbed 
fingers  let  the  knife  fall ;  but  it  was  well  he  did,  for  the  next 
instant  a  torch-light  flashed  into  the  hut,  and  he  had  barely 
time  to  turn  over,  so  as  to  hide  it  beneath  him,  when  Shamokin 
entered,  followed  by  several  others.  The  council  had  been 
dissolved  in  drunken  disorder. 

Two  or  three  hours  of  tumult  and  confusion  ensued  ;  but, 
except  sundry  blows  and  kicks,  and  numberless  taunts  and 


296  AGNES. 

pantomime  scalpings,  the  prisoners  were  unmolested  in  the  hut. 
The  bitter  doom  reserved  for  them  on  the  morrow  saved  them 
through  the  perils  of  that  hour.  But  as  there  were  always 
two  or  three  present,  and  the  torches  lighted  the  narrow 
space,  Percy  had  no  opportunity  to  tell  Frank  of  the  means 
of  escape  placed  in  his  power. 

As  night  advanced  the  noises  gradually  ceased,  and  the 
crowd,  wearied  with  excitement,  dispersed  to  sleep  off  the 
effect  of  their  potations.  The  prisoners  had  calculated  upon 
that  strange  oversight  of  Indian  war-tactics  which  made 
them  neglect  to  keep  a  watch,  and  thus  rendered  surprises 
and  escapes  comparatively  easy.  Thus,  notwithstanding  their 
peril  from  the  drunken  mob,  they  had  never  lost  hope ;  for,  if 
their  own  efforts  failed,  it  was  most  probable  some  one  of  their 
party  had  managed  to  ascertain  their  situation,  and  would 
relieve  them  during  the  night.  They  knew  also  the  effect 
which  a  cool  and  determined  bearing  has  upon  the  savage, 
and,  seeing  their  hostility,  had  refrained  from  any  complaint 
or  appeal  to  compassion. 

At  length  they  were  left  alone  with  Shamokin,  who  seemed 
to  appoint  himself  their  jailer.  He  examined  the  cords 
which  bound  their  limbs,  and  smiled  grimly  to  see  that  their 
uneasy  movements  had  not  loosened  the  knots.  He  had 
great  respect  for  their  silence  and  fortitude,  but  would  have 
scorned  himself  for  one  emotion  of  pity ;  and,  leaving  them 
in  their  comfortless  position,  he  closed  the  door  with  a  piece 
of  bark,  and  lay  down  against  it. 

Perfect  quiet  succeeded.     Shamokin  considered  his  pris- 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  297 

oners  safe,  and  composed  himself  to  sleep.  When  his  deep, 
sonorous  breathing  filled  the  hut,  Frank  whispered  to  his 
brother, 

"  Now,  if  we  only  had  a  knife,  we  might  manage  to  get 
free.  They  emptied  my  pockets  —  " 

"  Hush  !     There  is  a  knife  here  —  if  I  can  get  hold  of  it." 

"  Did  Lawontica  bring  it  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so  —  I  could  n't  see  her  face.  She  came  and 
went  like  a  flash." 

"  Can  you  find  the  knife  ?  " 

"  I  have  it.     Hush  !  the  Indian  stirs  !  " 

They  listened  breathlessly,  but  he  only  muttered  a  few 
words  in  his  sleep.  After  many  trials,  Percy  managed,  with 
his  hands  tied  behind  him,  to  place  the  knife  in  such  a  posi 
tion  as  to  cut  the  cord  around  his  wrists.  He  cared  little  at 
that  moment  for  the  deep  gash  he  gave  himself  in  so  doing. 
Having  freed  his  own  limbs,  he  could  easily  free  his  brother. 

"  Now  for  escape!  "  said  Frank  ;  "  but,  0,  Percy,  must  we 
go,  after  all  this,  without  knowing  what  has  become  of 
Agnes?" 

"  It  looks  so  now.  Have  you  noticed  that,  all  day,  no  one 
has  seemed  to  know  what  we  meant  when  we  inquired  for 
her  ?  Can  it  be  she  is  n't  here  ?  " 

"  I  've  a  good  will  to  wait,  at  all  hazards,  and  see  if  I  can't 
see  Lawontica,  to-morrow." 

"  Nonsense  !  Be  thankful  if  you  can  save  yourself.  You 
can  do  her  no  good  by  staying." 

''  Go  it,  then !     Let 's  make  a  dash,  and  get  out  of  this." 


298  AGNES. 

"  Wait,"  said  Percy,  in  a  low  whisper.  "  We  must  make 
surer  work  than  that,  or  the  whole  horde  of  drunken  wretches 
will  be  after  us  in  five  minutes.  I  'm  sorry  for  Shamokin,  but 
he  must  die." 

He  moved  slowly  away.  The  space  was  not  more  than  ten 
feet  wide,  but  to  his  excited,  shuddering  nerves  it  seemed  an 
endless  distance.  The  extreme  caution  he  was  obliged  to 
take  gave  him  time  to  realize  his  situation ;  in  utter  dark 
ness,  creeping  with  but  one  small  weapon  to  find  an  enemy 
whose  tomahawk  would  cleave  his  brain  the  next  instant,  if 
an  unwary  movement  waked  him  too  soon,  or  if  the  first  blow 
was  not  fatal. 

Drawing  near  with  slow  and  painful  care,  pausing  if  the 
Indian  stirred  or  checked  his  breathing,  and  guided  only  by 
that  sound,  at  length  his  hand  touched  Shamokin's  head.  It 
sent  a  thrill  through  him  like  an  electric  shock,  and  he  hushed 
his  very  breath  to  listen ;  but  the  sleeper  did  not  move. 
Avoiding  contact,  he  moved  a  little,  and  bent  down  his  head 
until  his  ear  was  over  the  mouth ;  then  lower  and  lower,  until 
he  thought  he  detected  the  full,  strong  heart-beat.  His 
arm  trembled.  He  had  been  in  the  wildest  strife  of  battle 
unmoved ;  but  this,  though  no  less  necessary  to  self-defence, 
seemed  like  deliberate  murder.  His  resolution  wavered,  his 
hand  grew  unsteady,  and  the  point  of  the  knife  touched  the 
Indian's  breast. 

At  the  touch  he  moved  —  he  waked.  Frank  heard  a  half- 
cry,  and  then  a  dull  sound  like  a  struggle  on  the  earth.  Then 
all  was  still. 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOREST.  29V 

la  a  moment  Percy's  voice,  low  and  hoarse,  called 
"  Come,"  and  he  groped  around  the  wall  to  the  open  door. 

It  was  a  cloudy  night,  and  moonless,  but  the  snow  seemed 
to  gleam  with  a  dull,  phosphorescent  light,  and  they  could 
distinguisu  the  outline  of  the  valley,  with  its  overhanging 
mountains.  The  lodges  were  all  shut  and  silent,  and  no 
person  was  visible.  Without  exchanging  a  word,  they  passed 
cautiously  and  swiftly  through  the  village  towards  the 
stream. 

Just  as  they  stood  under  the  shadow  of  its  bank,  they  saw 
dark  forms  emerge  from  the  forest,  and  creep  down  the  bare, 
steep  path  opposite. 

"  It  is  Lawson  and  the  others,"  said  Frank.  "  I  wonder 
they  did  n't  come  sooner.  You  had  a  hazardous  time  there  in 
the  dark,  Percy." 

"  Don't  speak  of  it !  Ugh  !  I  feel  as  if  1  had  been  having 
the  nightmare." 

They  ran  across  the  ice.  Those  coming  down  the  moun 
tain  saw  them,  and  stopped  on  the  edge  of  the  stream.  A 
brief  consultation  followed. 

Lawson,  becoming  alarmed  at  their  long  absence,  had  left 
the  cave  and  crept  through  the  woods  to  a  point  from  whence 
he  could  look  into  the  village,  and  thus  gained  a  pretty  accu 
rate  idea  of  their  situation.  . 

"  I  saw  the  crowd  peeking  in  the  door,  there,  as  if  you 
was  two  wild  beasts  in  a  menagerie,"  he  said  to  Percy,  "and  I 
went  back  and  told  the  boys  we  must  get  you  out  o'  that  in 
no  time.  How  did  you  get  clear  ?  " 


300  AGNES. 

Percy  briefly  related  the  particulars  of  their  capture  and 
escape. 

"  That  Shame-kin 's  dead,  is  he  ?  He 's  a  varmint !  Lucky 
yeu  killed  him,  for  now  we  're  sure  o'  some  hours'  start  of 
'em.  Our  lives  depends  on  our  legs.  No  use  to  hide  the 
trail  now.  There  '11  be  forty  of  'em  arter  us  in  the  morning, 
and  we  better  take  straight  up  stream  on  the  ice.  We  can 
do  it  in  no  time.  The  snow  an't  deep.  Let 's  keep  together 
all  we  can ;  but,  if  we  get  parted,  't  an't  no  use  looking  for 
each  other  in  the  woods.  Every  man  must  look  out  for  him 
self —  and  God  help  us  all ! " 

He  uttered  this  last  sentence  reverently,  and  a  low  "  amen  " 
responded  from  more  than  one  of  his  hearers.  The  peril  sur 
rounding  them  gave  earnestness  to  the  petition.  No  time 
could  be  lost,  and,  without  further  parley,  they  set  off  at  a 
brisk  pace,  which,  before  daylight,  brought  them  to  the  head 
of  the  stream.  Pausing  long  enough  to  swallow  their  last 
remnants  of  food,  and  then  divesting  themselves  of  all  super 
fluous  clothing  and  whatever  might  impede  their  flight,  they 
plunged  into  the  forest. 

Having  traversed  this  route  so  recently,  they  were  able  to 
find  their  way  readily,  and  the  paths  they  had  made  in  com 
ing  aided  their  return.  But  many  times  through  the  day  the 
wind  bore  to  them  the  sound  of  voices  yelling  and  shouting, 
and,  near  nightfall,  the  foremost  of  their  pursuers  came  within 
sight,  as  they  were  crossing  a  small  pond,  and  fired  at  them. 
One  man  was  slightly  wounded ;  but  his  injury  was  avenged, 


ADVENTURES     IN     THE     FOKEST.  301 

for  Lawson  turned  and  took  deliberate  aim,  and  his  shots 
never  failed. 

The  Indians  who  came  after  paused  at  seeing  the  dead 
body  of  their  companion,  and  thus  time  was  again  gained  for 
the  fugitives,  who  succeeded  in  reaching  the  banks  of  Wy- 
alusing  Greek  soon  after  dark.  They  dared  not  make  a  fire, 
lest  it  should  betray  them  ;  but  took  turns  in  watching  each 
other  through  brief  intervals  of  sleep,  and  in  walking  about  to 
keep  from  freezing,  for  the  night  was  very  cold. 

Thus  partially  rested,  they  resumed  their  flight  with  the 
earliest  gray  of  dawn.  Once  again  the  Indians  overtook 
them,  and  shots  were  exchanged.  No  one  of  their  party  was 
wounded,  but  they  fancied  their  own  rifles  had  more  effect, 
for  the  savages  withdrew,  bearing  off  one  of  their  number,  and 
they  reached  Wyalusing  that  afternoon  in  safety. 

Here  they  remained  a  day,  to  take  the  rest  they  so  much 
needed  after  their  hard  and  useless  journey.  Their  chagrin 
and  disappointment  were  bitter,  but  they  put  the  best  face 
possible  upon  the  adventure,  and  found  some  consolation  in 
recounting  the  dangers  they  had  escaped. 

But  the,  momentous  question  of  Agnes'  disappearance 
remained  involved  in  a  mystery  as  dark  as  ever.  Frank 
wished  to  remain  at  Wyalusing  and  wait  for  an  opportunity 
to  return  to  the  vicinity,  and  in  some  way  obtain  an  inter 
view  with  Lawontica.  But  his  hand,  through  the  hardship 
and  neglect  of  so  long  a  time,  had  become  dangerously  in 
flamed,  and  Percy  insisted  he  should  accompany  the  party 
home  and  obtain  the  care  he  needed.  They  were  two  days 
26 


•   AGNES. 

accomplishing  the  remainder  of  the  journey,  and  when  they 
reached  Morristown  the  inflammation  had  assumed  a  malig 
nant  type.  The  immediate  amputation  of  two  fingers  was 
necessary,  and  weeks  of  fever  and  pain  elapsed  before  the 
wound  was  safely  healed,  and  his  usual  health  restored. 
Meantime  what  had  become  of  the  wanderer  ? 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

AN   INDIAN    MONODY. 

THE  evening  before  Agnes  left  the  farm-house,  Sanoso  and 
her  grandchild  sat  within  their  wigwam,  brooding  over  the 
fire.  Its  uncertain  glimmer,  rising  and  sinking,  revealed 
fitfully  their  faces,  and  the  simple  garniture  of  their  dwelling. 
Aided  by  her  white  neighbors,  Sanoso  had  constructed  a  rude 
chimney  of  stones,  which  kept  the  cabin  free  from  smoke ; 
and  all  her  arrangements  showed  the  same  unusual  degree  of 
neatness  and  comfort.  On  either  side  of  the  chimney  was  a 
narrow  bed  of  boughs,  covered  by  deer-skins  finely  dressed, 
and  the  one  occupied  by  Lawontica  was  screened  from  obser 
vation  by  a  curtain.  Over  the  fireplace  hung  a  few  cooking 
utensils,  and  the  wooden  bowls  and  plates,  skilfully  carved 
and  smoothed,  from  which  they  ate  their  food. 

The  low  walls  were  covered  partly  with  skins,  and  partly 
with  a  patch-work  of  woollen  and  cotton  cloth,  tastefully 
arranged  in  figures.  The  earthen  floor  was  carpeted,  except 
in  a  half-circle  before  the  fire,  by  an  elastic  matting  of  dried 
pine-leaves,  thickly  strewn,  and  woven  together  by  constant 
use.  The  only  furniture  was  a  bench,  that  served  by  turns 


AGNES. 

for  seat  or  table,  and  a  few  stools  of  rude  manufacture. 
There  was  no  window,  the  hut  being  lighted  only  by  the  door, 
over  which  now  a  heavy  curtain  was  dropped,  and  fastened 
by  a  bag  of  sand  laid  across  the  threshold. 

Lawontica  leaned  forward,  with  her  elbow  on  her  knees, 
her  hands  supporting  her  chin,  and  the  ends  of  her  fingers 
pressed  hard  against  the  white  teeth  gleaming  through  her 
half-parted  lips.  Her  expression  was  moody  and  sullen,  but 
without  excitement ;  and  she  had  retained  this  attitude  a  long 
time  without  motion  of  limb  or  feature. 

Sitting  in  the  opposite  corner,  Sanoso  silently  smoked  her 
pipe,  and  cast  furtive  glances  towards  her  child.  At  length, 
assuming  the  same  position,  and  gazing  into  the  coals,  she 
muttered,  as  if  talking  to  herself, 

"  Is  Sanoso  deaf?  She  is  an  old  woman,  and  her  ears 
grow  dull.  No  one  speaks  to  her.  Once  she  was  wise.  Now 
she  knows  nothing.  Sanoso  may  go  sleep.  Lawontica  does 
not  need  her." 

No  one  would  have  supposed  from  the  girl's  unmoved  face 
that  these  low-breathed  syllables  of  her  native  tongue  had 
reached  her  ear.  Neither  did  Sanoso  look  towards  her,  or 
seem  to  expect  any  reply,  but  continued  to  smoke  in  silence. 

After  some  time,  she  spoke  again. 

"Once  the  heart  of  my  child  lay  close  to  the  ear  of  Sanoso. 
When  it  cried,  she  heard  it ;  when  it  was  hurt,  she  medicined 
it.  Now  Sanoso  listens,  but  it  says  nothing.  Lawontica 
hides  it  from  Sanoso,  —  hides  it  from  the  poor  old  woman." 

"  Sanoso  is  foolish,"  was  the  reply,  in  a  hard  tone,  through 


AN     INDIAN     MONODY.  305 

the  clenched  teeth.  "  Lawontica  is  a  woman  now.  She  has 
no  heart." 

Sanoso  took  the  pipe  from  her  mouth,  and  said,  sharply, 

"She  is  no  woman!  —  she  is  maddoes!*  She  throws 
sharp  quills  at  the  hand  that  strokes  her ! " 

The  girl  lifted  herself  up,  resentful  at  this  comparison. 
Her  eyes  kindled,  and  her  dark  cheek  flushed. 

"  Lawontica  is  a  chief's  daughter,"  she  said,  proudly. 
"  She  will  go  back  to  her  tribe.  She  will  throw  ashes  behind 
her  when  she  leaves  the  lodge,!  and  Sanoso  will  see  her  no 
more.  Sanoso  has  smoked  too  long  with  the  white  man. 
She  has  forgotten  her  people." 

The  fire  blazed  up  at  this  moment,  showing  each  face  to 
the  other,  and  a  pang  shot  through  both  hearts  at  the  emo 
tion  thus  revealed. 

"  Listen  !  "  said  Sanoso.  "  Many  winters  ago,  Sanoso  was 
a  handsome  young  woman.  The  red  cranberry  was  not  so 
red  as  her  lips,  the  brown  oak-leaf  when  the  frost  had  touched 
it  was  not  so  smooth  and  glossy  as  her  skin,  the  shining  black 
pebbles  in  the  brook  were  not  so  bright  as  her  eyes.  Then 
many  braves  brought  presents  to  her  wigwam,  and  the  sum 
mer  days  were  long  —  the  Sewan  —  the  summer  days,  when 
her  heart  was  merry. 

"  It  was  here  she  lived,  —  on  this  hillside,  beneath  these 
trees,  —  and  the  homes  of  the  Unami,$  her  people,  were  all 

*  A  hedgehog. 

t  To  throw  ashes  at  departing,  •was  to  take  a  vow  never  to  return. 
^  The  principal  tribe  among  the  Delaware  Indians. 
26* 


AGNES. 

around.  Then  Kobeetsha,  the  beaver-heart,  the  wise  man, 
the  great  warrior,  was  her  husband,  and  the  girls  of  her  tribe 
envied  her.  They  called  her  Comuchnole,  the  happy.  Ah, 
the  summer  days  were  long  —  the  Sewan  —  the  summer  days, 
when  the  pappoose  played  round  her  feet,  and  made  the  wig 
wam  glad. 

"  Then  the  white  man  come  nearer,  nearer,  little  nearer, 
and  cut  down  the  trees,  and  spoil  the  hunting-ground.  Then 
my  people  dig  up  the  hatchet,  and  paint  it  red.  But  Kobeet 
sha  say,  No.  "White  man  too  big.  Why  should  the  Lennile- 
nape  *  fight  too  much,  and  be  killed  ?  Much  better  they  sell 
their  land,  and  go  join  their  brothers,  the  Monseys,  among  the 
mountains,  and  their  uncles,  the  Iroquois.  It  is  good.  All 
my  people  they  go  off,  —  they  leave  the  pleasant  valleys,  and 
the  hillsides  where  the  summer  days  were  long. 

"  Ahkie !  t  it  was  the  moon  of  storms,  and  the  fever  seized 
Ojaneri.J  Very  sick  she  lay  in  the  lodge,  and  Kobeetsha 
went  over  the  great  river  to  get  the  famous  medicine-man ; 
but  he  came  back  no  more.  In  the  dark  night  of  storms  did 
the  great  river  swallow  his  canoe,  or  did  the  bad  white  man 
shoot  him,  or  the  treacherous  Indian  kill  him  ?  Who  knows  ? 
He  came  back  no  more ! 

"  But  the  child  lived.  She  grew.  When  she  was  young 
girl  —  ahkie  !  too  young  to  be  married — the  great  chief  Pus- 
chiis  saw  her,  and  she  went  with  him  to  his  lodge.  Then 
Sanoso  come  away.  There  was  no  room  for  her  in  the  wig- 

*Lemrilenape  —  the  native  name  for  the  inhabitants  of  this  country, 
called  Indians  by  the  whites. 

tAlas.  JOjaneri  —  the  beautiful. 


AN     INDIAN     MONODY.  307 

warn  where  the  great  chief's  mother  sat  by  the  fire.  Sanoso 
come  away  to  the  pleasant  valley,  and  the  hillside  where  the 
summer  days  were  long  —  the  Sewan — the  summer  days, 
when  she  was  happy. 

"  Then  the  white  man  very  good  to  her.  Help  build  the 
wigwam,  give  her  plenty  to  eat.  Sanoso  very  glad  she  come. 
But  one  day  she  made  baskets  by  the  door,  and,  quick  !  she 
heard  a  sound.  Was  it  the  west  wind  in  the  branches,  talk 
ing  to  the  leaves  ?  Was  it  the  loon  crying  to  the  rain-cloud  ? 
Who  can  tell  ?  There  was  no  one  near  !  '  Rise  up  !  hasten  ! ' 
it  said,  '  for  the  great  chief  has  a  daughter,  but  no  wife  !  ' 

"  The  voice  spoke  true.  Ahkie,  ahkie  !  the  bitter  day,  the 
bitter  winter  day !  The  voice  spoke  true.  She  was  gone  ! 
Three  days  she  had  been  on  the  journey  to  the  spirit-land. 
She  was  gone,  my  only  one,  —  my  Sewealloca,  —  my  morn 
ing  star ! 

"  But  the  great  chief  had  a  daughter.  Who  lifted  the 
crying  little  one,  and  carried  it  till  it  could  walk  alone  ?  Who 
staid  many  moons  for  its  sake  among  a  strange  people,  where 
all  the  people  of  her  tribe  were  scattered ;  among  the  black 
mountains,  away  from  the  pleasant  valleys,  and  the  hillside 
where  the  summer  days  were  long  ?  Maybe  Sanoso  did  it !  — 
the  old  woman,  the  foolish  woman  !  Lawontica  will  throw 
ashes  at  her  when  she  leaves  the  lodge  !  " 

She  ceased  abruptly,  and  resumed  her  pipe,  without  casting 
another  glance  at  her  grandchild.  It  was  no  new  story  she 
told,  but  Lawontica  could  not  hear  it  unmoved.  She  rose 
slowly  from  her  seat,  and  said,  in  a  tone  of  apology, 


308  A  G  X  K  ?  . 

"You  called  me  weisis,  —  maddoes."* 

Sauoso  deigned  no  reply.  Lawontica's  straight  figure 
swayed  a  moment  with  the  irresolution  and  hesitation  she  felt, 
and  then,  throwing  herself  upon  the  floor,  she  laid  her  head 
upon  the  old  woman's  knee,  and,  looking  up  into  her  face, 
said,  penitently,  "  Muscain — melin  !  "  t 

The  grandmother  stroked  her  silken  hair  caressingly,  and 
she  knew  she  was  forgiven.  Nothing  more  was  said,  and 
after  she  had  remained  a  little  while  in  this  position  she 
arose,  and,  wrapping  herself  in  a  blanket,  went  to  the  door 
and  pulled  aside  the  curtain.  Again  turning  abruptly  to  her 
companion,  she  said,  in  a  rapid  manner,  as  if  forcing  herself 
to  speak, 

"  Listen,  Onurha.t  Lawontica  is  the  great  chief's  daugh 
ter.  She  is  a  woman.  She  must  be  married.  Tamaque  is  a 
brave  warrior,  he  is  a  wise  chief.  He  asks  her  to  go  to  his 
lodge.  Puschiis,  the  great  chief,  says  it  is  good.  She  will 

go-" 

Sanoso  started  slightly  as  she  heard  this ;  but  the  expres 
sion  of  her  face  indicated  pleasure  rather  than  pain,  and  she 
answered,  without  any  appearance  of  surprise, 

"  When  will  my  daughter  go  1 " 

Lawontica's  breath  came  short  and  hard.  "  When  the  sun 
rises  Tamaque  comes  to  the  lodge.  Lawontica  goes  back 
with  him." 

Sanoso  did  not  pause  in  her  smoking,  or  lift  her  eyes  from 
the  ground,  but  her  voice  trembled  slightly  as  she  asked, 

*  Beast,  hedgehog.       1 1  am  sorry  —  forgive  me.       \  My  mother. 


AN     INDIAN     MONODY.  309 

'•  And  for  this  is  my  daughter  sad  ?  For  this  does  she  say 
she  has  no  heart  ?  " 

"  Did  I  say  so  ?  It  was  Grosquagin,  a  foolish  word.  It 
is  gone.  Lawontica  will  be  very  happy.  Sanoso  shall  sit  by 
her  fire  when  she  is  old,  and  the  children  shall  bring  her 
meat." 

"  Ahkie,  no  !  "  answered  the  old  squaw,  shaking  her  head, 
sadly.  "  My  child  shall  go  with  Tamaque,  for  the  great 
chief  says  so,  and  it  is  good.  But  the  heart  of  Sanoso  stays 
in  the  wigwam  on  the  hillside.  The  trees  in  the  pleasant 
valley  know  her  better  than  the  people  of  her  tribe.  The 
white  man  give  her  more  than  her  own  brother.  She  will 
stay  here.  One  day  while  she  sits  by  the  fire  in  the  wigwam, 
Angloagan  *  will  come  in  at  the  door." 

As  she  was  speaking,  Lawontica  became  abstracted  and 
uneasy.  She  stood  as  if  listening  intently  for  some  sound  out 
of  doors,  and,  without  replying  to  Sanoso,  suddenly  left  the 
hut.  In  a  few  moments  she  returned,  and  said,  abruptly, 

"  The  moon  is  bright  —  I  will  walk.  When  the  stars  set 
I  will  come  again." 

Sanoso  nodded,  and  she  went  out  again,  dropping  the  cur 
tain  behind  her.  Her  grandmother  followed  her  to  the  door, 
and,  looking  out  stealthily,  saw  her  descend  the  hill.  When 
she  reached  the  copse  near  the  spring,  a  tall  warrior,  with 
nodding  plumes  upon  his  head,  came  forward  to  meet  her. 
A  short  conversation  ensued,  and  then  they  walked  away 
together  in  the  path  leading  to  Mr.  Grey's  farm. 

*  Death. 


310  AGNES. 

Sanoso  chuckled  low  to  herself,  and,  muttering  and  laughing 
with  a  strange  excitement,  went  back  to  her  pipe  and  her 
seat  by  the  fire.  Here  she  remained  a  long  time,  a  weird, 
lonely  figure,  crouching  over  the  dying  embers,  talking  and 
shaking  her  old  head,  as  the  feeble,  broken  words  fell  from 
her  lips  unconsciously.  Then,  lying  down  upon  her  couch  of 
skins,  she  wrapped  herself  in  a  blanket,  throwing  one  corner 
over  her  face,  and  was  soon  asleep. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE    PKOUD   BEAUTY  A   BRIDE. 

AGNES'  bed-room  at  the  farm  opened  from  the  parlor,  or 
"  fore-room,"  seldom  used  by  the  family  during  winter.  A 
similar  bed-room,  adjoining  the  "  keeping-room,"  served  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Grey  for  a  dormitory,  and  "  the  boys  "  slept  up 
stairs  in  a  chamber  over  them.  Agnes  was  thus  in  some 
degree  isolated ;  but  she  liked  the  seclusion  of  her  apartment, 
and  had  not  a  thought  of  fear  with  regard  to  its  lonely 
position. 

On  the  evening  after  her  conversation  with  Frank,  she  sat 
a  long  time  by  the  window,  when  the  household  had  separated 
for  the  night,  looking  out  dreamily  upon  the  wastes  of  snow, 
lit  by  the  dazzling  moonbeams.  Around  them  the  forest 
seemed  to  stand  like  a  wall,  black  and  lofty,  shutting  in  the 
solitary  dwelling  and  its  occupants  from  all  communion  with 
the  world.  Thus  dark,  mysterious,  impenetrable,  seemed  the 
wall  which  circumstances  had  built  around  her.  She  felt  too 
weak  to  struggle  through  it,  too  timid  to  brave  its  terrors;  and 
yet  she  could  no  longer  remain  in  this  one  bright  spot,  this 
pleasant  home  where  she  had  rested.  The  very  love  which 


312  AGNES. 

had  met  her  there  warned  her  thence,  lest  she  should  unwit 
tingly  give  trouble  in  return  for  kindness ;  and  that  was  a 
possibility  her  generous  spirit  could  not  endure.  Wearied, 
perplexed,  and  chilled,  at  length  she  sought  her  bed,  and  fell 
into  a  light  slumber. 

She  was  aroused  by  a  hand  laid  softly  on  her  arm.  The 
curtain  had  been  put  back  from  the  window,  and,  though 
clouds  were  gathering  over  the  sky,  she  could  dimly  distin 
guish  the  figure  beside  her. 

It  was  Lawontica,  who  placed  her  finger  on  her  lips,  and 
uttered  a  low  "  hist,"  as  Agnes  was  about  to  speak. 

"  What  is  it?  Is  any  one  ill ?  Does  any  one  want  me?  " 
she  asked,  in  a  whisper. 

"Me  hear  'urn  strange  noise.  Get  up,  quick.  Maybe 
somebody  come,"  said  Lawontica. 

"  What  can  it  be  ?  —  why  don't  you  call  Frank,  or  Mr. 
Grey?"  exclaimed  Agnes,  in  a  tone  of. alarm.  "It  may  be 
the  Tories,  and  they  will  break  into  the  house." 

"  Why  you  no  get  up,  then,  quick?  S'pose  bad  mans  come, 
very  much  you  want  'um  be  dressed." 

"That's  true;  but  do  go  call  Mr.  Grey.  I'm  fright 
ened  ! "  said  Agnes'  jumping  up  and  hurrying  on  her 
clothes.  The  Indian  girl  assisted  her,  but  seemed  anxious  to 
make  no  noise,  and  to  Agnes'  continued  urging  replied,  eva 
sively, 

"  G  uess  we  no  wake  'um  yet.  May  be,  only  —  what  you 
call  'um  —  rat !  Then  he  laugh  at  me." 


THE     PROUD     BEAUTY     A     BRIDE.  313 

"0,  nonsense  !  If  some  one  is  coming,  he  must  be  waked. 
I  '11  call  him,  myself." 

As  she  sprang  to  the  door  for  this  purpose,  the  Indian  girl 
seized  her  by  the  arm,  almost  rudely,  and,  with  her  hand  over 
the  half-open  lips,  said, 

"  No,  no  !  No  speak  'urn  loud.  Somebody  hear.  Fix 
your  clothes,  quick.  Maybe  you  call  him  then." 

Her  manner  was  so  strangely  violent,  that  Agnes  made  no 
further  opposition,  although  she  wondered  greatly  what  it 
could  mean.  Her  dress  was  arranged  as  rapidly  as  her 
trembling  fingers  would  allow,  and  then,  as  she  turned  to  go 
into  the  kitchen,  Lawontica  snatched  a  large  shawl-  from  a 
chair  near  the  bed,  and  threw  it  over  her  shoulders. 

"  What 's  that  for  ?  "  asked  Agnes. 

"  Maybe  you  cold  out  there,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Is  the  fire  all  out,  in  the  kitchen  ?  " 

"  Hush  ! "  interrupted  her  companion.  "  You  no  hear  'urn 
noise  ?  " 

They  stood  still  and  listened,  but  not  a  whisper  broke  the 
silence,  and  Lawontica,  grasping  Agnes'  arm,  in  an  eager, 
excited  manner,  walked  close  beside  her  as  they  crossed  the 
parlor;  but  when  they  reached  the  door  opening  into  the 
front  entry,  she  pushed  her  back  a  little,  and  whispered, 

"  You  stay  here,  minute.  Me  go  first  and  see.  Maybe 
somebody  there.  When  me  call,  then  you  come." 

Agnes,  timid  and  unsuspicious,  was  glad  to  comply,  and 
remained  there  until  she  heard  the  click  of  the  door-latch, 
and  Lawontica's  voice  speaking  her  name  in  a  loud  whisper. 
27 


314 


AGNES. 


She  took  one  or  two  steps  forward  into  the  dark  passage. 
Something  seized  her  shoulders  with  a  grasp  like  a  vice,  and 
her  involuntary  scream  of  terror  was  stifled  by  a  hand  pressed 
tightly  upon  her  mouth.  A  large  cloth  was  thrown  over  her 
head  and  arms,  she  was  lifted  from  the  floor,  and  borne 
rapidly  away.  The  front  door  had  been  opened  and  shut 
noiselessly,  and  through  it  her  captors  fled.  After  a  few 
struggles  she  lay  still,  and  so  lifeless  that  upon  reaching  the 
wood  they  paused  behind  the  barricade  of  fallen  trees,  and 
removed  the  cloth  from  her  head.  Snow  was  beginning  to 
fall,  and  the  moon  was  hidden,  but  there  was  light  enough 
left  to  show  that  she  had  fainted. 

The  Indian  who  carried  her  gave  a  grunt  of  satisfaction, 
and,  arranging  the  covering  so  as  to  expose  her  face,  trans 
ferred  her  to  the  arms  of  his  companion,  and  they  hastened 
on.  The  cold  air  soon  revived  her,  but  returning  conscious 
ness  brought  with  it  such  paralyzing  fright,  that  they  had 
gone  some  distance  before  she  thought  of  screaming  for  aid. 
Then  she  sent  forth  shriek  after  shriek ;  but  it  was  too  late, 
and  the  cries  were  soon  stopped  by  a  choking  grasp  upon  her 
throat.  They  were  now  in  the  thick,  dark  forest.  Instinct 
must  have  guided  her  captors,  for  there  was  no  path  and  no 
light  to  direct  them ;  yet  they  went  on  without  much  delay, 
alternately  carrying  her  in  their  arms.  Her  slight  form, 
wasted  by  anxiety  and  illness,  was  not  a  heavy  burden  for 
these  hardy  men  while  she  lay  passive  in  their  arms ;  and 
when  she  struggled  they  found  means  to  quiet  her. 

At  length  a  faint  gleam,  spreading  and  brightening  through 


THE     PROUD     BEAUTY     A     BRIDE.  315 

the  murky  air,  announced  the  end  of  that  long,  dreadful 
night.  When  the  dawn  had  so  far  advanced  as  to  enable 
Agnes  to  distinguish  objects  about  her,  the  Indians  halted, 
selected  with  some  care  a  dry  place  in  a  copse  of  low, 
spreading  firs,  and  motioned  for  her  to  sit  down. 

She  obeyed,  wrapping  herself  in  the  woollen  cloth  they  had 
thrown  over  her,  for  she  was  shivering  with  cold.  They  then 
kindled  a  fire,  and,  while  resting  themselves  on  the  ground 
before  it,  one  of  them  took  a  few  cakes,  made  of  pounded 
corn,  from  a  greasy  pouch  hanging  at  his  side.  He  gave 
some  to  his  companion,  who  ate  them  with  a  relish,  and  laid 
the  remainder  upon  Agnes'  lap,  saying,  emphatically,  "  Eat." 

She  could  not  swallow  the  unpalatable  food,  and  the  Indian 
frowned  as  if  he  was  displeased,  as  he  watched  her  frightened 
efforts  to  do  so.  Turning  from  her,  he  said  a  few  words  to 
his  companion,  who  appeared  to  respect  his  authority;  and 
then,  rising,  stood  before  his  captive,  with  an  aspect  so  stern 
that  her  terror  increased.  She  clasped  her  hands  with  an 
involuntary  appeal  for  mercy.  He  smiled  grimly  to  see  the 
impression  he  had  made,  and  said,  in  broken  English, 

"  Me  go  way  now.  You  no  move  'um  out  this  tree,  then 
he  no  hurt  you.  You  move  'um,  make  'um  noise  — "  He 
finished  the  sentence  by  snatching  the  tomahawk  from  his 
belt,  and,  giving  it  a  whirl,  made  a  pass  at  her,  as  if  he  would 
have  buried  it  in  her  forehead. 

Agnes  shrank  back  witli  a  stifled  cry,  and  cowered  at  his 
feet,  mute  and  trembling.  He  saw  she  understood  his 
meaning,  and,  muttering  some  indistinct,  scornful  words,  he 


AGNES. 

strode  off  through  the  forest,  and  was  speedily  out  of  sight. 
Exhausted  and  despairing,  she  made  no  attempt  to  excite 
compassion  in  the  savage  who  remained  to  guard  her,  but,  with 
her  head  bowed  on  her  knees,  crouched  before  the  fire,  and 
yielded  herself,  in  utter  helplessness,  to  the  thought  of  what 
her  fate  might  be. 

After  two  or  three  hours,  the  plumed  and  painted  warrior 
who  had  first  seized  her  appeared  at  the  opening  of  the  copse, 
where  his  comrade  stood  watching,  and  an  earnest  conversa 
tion  followed ;  after  which  he  went  away  again,  and  his  com 
panion,  approaching  Agnes,  signed  to  her  to  arise  and  resume 
her  journey. 

She  dared  not  refuse,  for  death  was  the  alternative ;  and 
bitterly  as  she  had  wearied  of  life,  her  timid  nature  could  not 
brave  a  fate  so  dreadful.  Yet  her  steps  were  feeble,  and 
their  progress  necessarily  so  slow,  that  her  guide  became  very 
impatient,  and  several  times  caught  her  in  his  arms  and 
carried  her  for  some  distance,  in  the  rapid  trotting  pace 
peculiar  to  the  Indian.  When  he  placed  her  again  upon  her 
feet  he  threatened  her  with  his  tomahawk,  and,  with  menacing 
looks  and  gestures,  urged  her  forward. 

As  the  day  passed,  Agnes  looked  eagerly  around,  and 
endeavored  to  note  some  objects  by  which  she  could  retrace 
the  route  they  were  taking.  The  country  was  wild  and 
broken.  Everywhere  spread  the  primitive  forest,  with  its 
monotony  of  hill  and  vale;  its  frozen  water-courses,  which 
afforded  the  readiest  path  through  its  mazes ;  its  huge  trees 
stretching  their  bare  arms,  locked  in  intricate  embraces, 


THE     PROUD     BEAUTY     A     BRIDE..  817 

between  her  and  the  sky.  Though  the  snow  was  not  deep,  its 
uniform  covering  prevented  any  distinctness  in  the  different 
parts  of  the  landscape,  as  they  journeyed  on.  The  day  con 
tinued  cloudy,  with  occasional  falls  of  snow,  and  she  could 
gain  little  idea  of  the  direction  in  which  she  was  travelling. 

The  air  in  these  sheltered  places  was  still  and  mild,  every 
footfall  was  muffled,  the  winter  had  banished  birds  and  insects, 
and,  as  they  pursued  their  way  amid  the  intense  and  brooding 
silence,  there  were  times  when  Agnes'  very  breath  grew  hushed, 
and  her  pulses  ceased  to  play.  She  moved  mechanically,  but 
she  fancied  she  stood  still,  while  the  trees  moved  in  a  stately, 
solemn  dance  around  her,  and  sounds  and  echoes  struck  her 
ear  like  voices  from  the  far-off  past.  With  an  effort  she 
would  recover  herself  to  the  reality  of  cold  and  fatigue,  and 
a  cramping  pain  at  her  heart,  that  came  in  spasms,  and  left 
her  faint  and  breathless. 

They  paused  occasionally  for  a  few  moments  of  rest,  and 
then  she  was  driven  or  carried  forward  until  twilight  was 
darkening  through  the  trees,  and,  utterly  exhausted,  she  was 
ready  to  lie  down  and  die.  She  had  been  hoping  and  watch 
ing  all  day  for  some  sound  that  might  indicate  that  her  friends 
were  in  pursuit,  and  suddenly  thought  she  heard  footsteps, 
and  a  human  voice. 

"  This  way !  this  way !  I  am  here  !  "  she  cried,  wildly, 
with  a  shriek  that  echoed  through  the  woods. 

The  Indian  sprang  upon  her,  and,  grasping  her  throat, 
pressed  her,  choking,  down  to  the  ground,  while  his  eyes  glared 
27* 


318  AGNES. 

with  rage  as  he  twirled  his  tomahawk  around  his  head  to 
strike  the  fatal  blow. 

She  thought  her  last  moment  bad  come,  and  doubtless  her 
troubled  life  might  then  have  ended,  had  not  the  savage 
recognized  the  voice  which  now  called  in  reply,  and,  relaxing 
his  stifling  grasp,  paused  with  his  weapon  nearly  touching  her 
forehead.  A  long  interval  of  silence  succeeded,  and  then 
Agnes  saw  Lawontica  standing  over  her. 

Although  the  Indian  girl  had  so  falsely  betrayed  her  into 
captivity,  there  was  an  instinctive  sense  of  relief  at  the  sight 
of  a  familiar  face,  especially  one  of  her  own  sex,  and  Agnes' 
first  feeling  was  of  thankfulness  and  joy.  She  caught  at  the 
hem  of  Lawontica's  furred"  robe,  exclaiming, 

"  You  are  come !     You  will  save  me  ?  " 

But  the  face  looking  down  upon  her  was  hard  and  stern. 
The  brows  were  knit  until  they  met  in  one  dark,  heavy  line 
above  the  gleaming  eyes,  and  through  the  distended  nostrils 
came  short,  angry  pufis  of  breath,  while  the  chest  heaved  as 
if  a  tempest  were  raging  within  it. 

The  Indian  saw  her  mood,  and,  pressing  on  Agnes'  shoulder, 
to  keep  her  down,  raised  his  tomahawk  again,  and,  looking 
up  at  the  wrathful  woman  beside  him,  said,  in  their  native 
tongue, 

"  She  is  a  poor  thing.  She  cannot  walk.  She  will  hinder 
us.  She  will  scream  and  let  the  white  man  know  she  is  here. 
They  will  come  after  and  hear  her.  I  will  kill  her.  Then 
we  can  go  on.  When  the  white  man  comes  she  will  not  be 
with  us.  Who  will  know  where  she  is  ?  " 


THE     PROUD     BEAUTY     A     BRIDE.  319 

Lawontica  hesitated.  The  black  blood  of  revenge  surged 
and  boiled  in  her  heart.  In  a  delirium  of  jealousy  and  disap 
pointed  love,  she  had  concocted  the  scheme,  thus  far  carried 
out  successfully.  Now,  what  should  be  done  with  her  captive? 

Agnes  had  gathered  from  his  gestures  and  expression  the 
purport  of  the  Indian's  request,  and  saw  the  fluctuating  ex 
pression  of  Lawontica's  features  as  she  listened.  But  she 
could  not  believe  herself  in  danger ;  and  her  eyes  —  those 
tender,  beseeching  eyes  —  were  fixed  on  that  dark  face  more 
in  wonder  than  alarm. 

"  Shall  I  do  it  ?  "  asked  the  Indian  again,  and  twirled  the 
knife  around  his  victim's  head.  The  eyelids  scarcely  quivered 
over  the  blue  eyes.  She  had  suffered  so  much,  she  was  losing 
even  the  sense  of  fear. 

Lawontica  looked  at  her  in  surprise,  "  Why  you  no  cry? 
You  no  frightened  ?  "  she  said,  involuntarily,  and  motioned 
to  the  Indian  to  let  go  his  hold. 

"  No,  I  am  not  frightened  now,"  Agnes  replied,  as  she 
arose,  and,  nestling  close  beside  her  betrayer,  attempted  to 
take  her  hand. 

The  hand  was  snatched  away,  and  Lawontica  asked, 
abruptly, 

"  Why  you  no  frightened  ?     S'pose  he  kill  you  ?  " 

"  You  will  not  let  him  !  "  exclaimed  Agnes,  in  her  low, 
childlike  voice. 

"  How  you  know  that?  "  replied  Lawontica,  fiercely. 

"0,  because  you  could  not.  You,  a  young  girl !  —  0,  you 
could  not  let  me  be  murdered  before  your  eyes." 


320  AGNES. 

The  Indian  girl  blushed  and  turned  away  her  head,  but  she 
still  felt  the  charm  of  the  sweet  face  looking  into  hers  without 
a  shade  of  anxiety  or  fear. 

"  Maybe  me  go  way,  then  he  kill  you,"  she  persisted,  but 
her  tone  was  less  angry  than  before. 

"  0,  no,  Lawontica,"  said  Agnes,  drawing  nearer,  and 
again  taking  her  hand.  "  You  will  not  let  me  be  hurt,  I 
know.  You  like  me,  and  you  will  send  me  back  to  the  farm. 
0,  Lawontica,  think  how  anxious  they  will  be  about  me 
there ! " 

"  You  one  very  great  fool !  "  exclaimed  the  Indian  girl, 
passionately.  "  Me  like  you  ?  No,  no  !  me  hate  you !  Ve'y 
much  me  hate  you  !  Me  hate  'um  all  white  skin  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  hate  me?  0,  why  are  you  so  angry  ?  and 
why  have  you  brought  me  away  from  home  ?  "  said  Agnes, 
pitifully. 

The  words  aroused  all  the  elements  of  discord.  Lawon 
tica  snatched  away  her  hand,  frowning  and  stamping  with  her 
foot  on  the  ground. 

"  You  no  tell  me  that  question  any  more  !  Me  great  big 
angry  !  Me  hate  you  !  —  ve'y  much  me  hate  you !  " 

Agnes  gazed  at  her  in  wonder  and  fear,  but  answered 
slowly,  as  if  her  mind  could  not  comprehend  such  passion  in 
a  woman, 

"  I  don't  believe  you  hate  me  so.  I  never  did  anything  to 
make  you  angry.  I  always  liked  you.  Besides,  why  did 
you  tave  me,  then,  when  he  was  going  to  kill  me  ?  " 

Lawontica  laughed  bitterly. 


THE     PIIOUD     BEAUTY     A     BRIDE.  321 

"  Why  me  no  let  him  kill  you  ?  'Cause  you  one  little 
baby.  Me  hate  you,  but  me  pity  you  like  you  was  small 
pappoose." 

With  an  expression  of  contempt  she  turned  away,  and  sat 
down  upon  a  fallen  tree  not  far  distant.  Agnes  did  not 
follow.  She  knew  intuitively  that  the  crisis  of  rage  was  past, 
and  Lawontica  might  be  most  safely  left  to  the  womanly 
nature  which  had  recognized  the  claims  of  the  helpless.  She 
went  through  with  no  process  of  reasoning,  but  her  fine  per 
ceptions  were  seldom  at  fault,  and  they  did  not  deceive  her 
now. 

Too  weary  to  stand,  she  wrapped  the  shawl  around  her,  and 
sat  down  upon  the  ground.  The  shadows  of  evening  fell 
rapidly,  and,  as  they  waited  in  silence  and  darkness,  a  light 
began  to  flicker  behind  the  trees,  as  if  a  fire  had  been  kindled 
not  many  rods  distant.  Upon  seeing  this,  Lawontica  arose 
quickly,  and  went  towards  the  place  where  the  other  party 
had  encamped.  She  returned  with  her  arms  full  of  skins  and 
blankets,  which  she  threw  upon  the  ground  beside  Agnes,  and 
then,  assisted  by  the  Indian,  searched  for  a  spot  where  she 
might  sleep  through  the  night.  They  brushed  the  snow  from 
under  a  low-spreading  tree  surrounded  by  bushes,  and  piled  a 
heap  of  hemlock  boughs  for  a  bed.  Over  these  a  wolf-skin  was 
spread,  and  other  skins,  arranged  over  long  sticks,  supported 
against  the  tree,  formed  a  small  but  snug  shelter  against  the 
cold. 

Chilled  and  weary,  Agnes  was  glad  to  throw  herself  upon 
the  elastic  couch,  and  resign  herself  to  the  care  of  her  capri- 


322  AGNES. 

cious  protector.  Lawontica  wrapped  her  in  a  blanket,  re 
moved  her  wet  shoes  and  stockings,  substituting  woollen  leg- 
gins  and  moccasins  lined  with  fur,  and,  pinning  down  the 
corners  of  her  tent  with  some  acacia  thorns  she  found  near  by, 
left  her  to  get  warmed  and  rested.  Peeping  out  behind  the 
edge  of  the  skin,  Agnes  saw  the  Indian,  also  screened  from 
the  wind  and  from  observation  beneath  some  bushes  near, 
evidently  on  the  alert  to  prevent  any  attempt  at  escape. 

But  she  had  no  idea  of  escaping.  The  dark,  tangled  for 
est,  with  its  mysterious  noises,  its  awful  loneliness,  its  prowl 
ing  beasts,  was  of  itself  a  terror  to  her ;  and  now  that  La 
wontica  was  near  her  apprehensions  of  death  were  changed  to 
a  certainty  that  nothing  worse  than  captivity  was  intended 
for  her.  From  this  she  trusted  the  friends  she  had  left 
would  find  means  to  set  her  free.  Impossible  as  it  was  to 
divine  why  she  had  been  made  captive,  or  what  could  have 
caused  Lawontica's  treachery,  she  confided  in  the  authority 
she  supposed  a  chief's  daughter  to  possess  over  her  tribe,  and 
the  returning  friendship  which  would  shield  her  from  wrong. 
Amid  all  her  terror  and  grief,  she  had  felt  no  anger  against 
her  betrayer,  but  only  wonder  and  regret  at  the  misapprehen 
sion  that  must  have  caused  such  conduct,  and  confidence  that 
the  nobler  nature  of  the  Indian  girl  would  soon  resume  its 
sway.  This  assurance  of  her  childlike,  innocent  nature  had 
been  her  salvation. 

The  deadliest  purposes  of  vengeance  had  burned  in  Lawon 
tica's  heart.  Trained,  as  she  was,  to  note  slight  indications, 
and  to  watch  the  expression  of  faces,  she  had  detected  Frank's 


THE     PROUD     BEAUTY     A     BRIDE.  325 

interest  in  Agnes  even  before  he  was  himself  aware  of  its 
extent.  But  jealousy  had  warped  her  later  judgment,  and 
she  fancied  his  affection  was  returned.  It  was  a  stormy 
awakening  from  a  brief  dream  of  delight.  By  her  intense 
disappointment  she  first  realized  all  she  had  half  uncon 
sciously  hoped  for.  Utterly  misconceiving  the  good-natured 
attentions  and  the  assurances  of  friendship  she  had  received, 
she  believed  herself  to  have  been  falsely  deserted,  and  longed 
to  punish  her  fickle  lover  and  the  fair  object  who  had  absorbed 
his  thoughts. 

While  she  was  in  all  the  sullen  fury  of  this  mood,  Tamaque 
came  to  her  with  presents,  after  the  Indian  fashion  of  court 
ship,  beseeching  her  to  accept  him  for  a  husband.  He  had 
been  rejected  several  times  before,  in  spite  of  her  father's 
command.  The  wilful  girl  was  determined  to  have  her  own 
way  in  matrimonial  affairs,  and  so  long  as  she  chose  to  remain 
with  Sanoso  her  other  relatives  could  have  little  influence 
over  her.  The  pride  of  race,  the  prejudice  and  hatred  against 
the  white  man,  which  the  "  great  chief "  had  endeavored  to 
cultivate,  had  been  counteracted  by  her  grandmother's  teach 
ings,  and  the  kindness  received  from  the  neighboring  farmers 
during  her  visits  there. 

To  escape  the  pertinacity  of  her  Indian  lover,  she  had  now 
remained  many  months  with  Sanoso.  Her  intercourse  with 
the  family  at  the  farm-house  had  imparted  a  liking  for  civil 
ized  society,  an  admiration  for  the  conveniences  and  comforts 
of  the  white  man's  home,  and  a  longing  for  the  courtesy  with 
which  white  women  were  treated.  All  these  she  put  away 


324  AGNES. 

from  her  now,  with  angry  contempt  that  she  should  have  for 
gotten  what  was  due  to  herself  as  the  princess  of  a  despoiled 
people;  and  the  seeds  of  bitterness,  long  ago  implanted,  germ 
inated  with  frightful  rapidity.  She  thought  it  was  because 
she  was  an  Indian  girl  she  had  been  so  easily  deserted,  in  the 
vigor  of  her  young  life,  in  the  pride  of  her  beauty —  deserted 
for  a  little  pale  girl,  upon  whom  she  looked  with  scorn,  as 
immeasurably  her  inferior 

For  a  time  the  revulsion  of  feeling  swept  away  all  that  had 
been  gentle  and  attractive  in  her  nature.  She  had  been 
despised ;  she  meant  to  show  herself  powerful.  She  had  been 
ready  to  kneel  to  Frank  as  to  a  superior  being,  and  obey  every 
indication  of  his  will.  Now  he  should  sue  to  her,  as  alone 
potent  to  grant  what  was  dearer  than  life,  only  to  find  himself 
repulsed  and  baffled.  The  girl  who  had  been  preferred  before 
her  should  be  crushed  to  the  earth ;  made  a  servant,  whose 
days  would  be  bitter  with  hard  bondage ;  should  bear  harsh 
words  and  blows,  till  her  puny  life  was  worn  out  in  misery.  The 
savage  cruelty  that  delighted  in  slow  and  prolonged  tortures  for 
the  captive  taken  in  war  worked  in  these  untutored  impulses, 
mingled  with  a  shade  of  refinement  arising  from  her  superior 
intellect  and  the  society  she  had  enjoyed.  On  the  morning 
when  Frank  had  been  an  unseen  witness  of  their  meeting  by 
the  spring,  she  had  detailed  to  Tamaque  all  she  chose  to 
reveal  of  her  feelings  and  purposes.  The  Indians  were  at  that 
time  in  a  state  of  discontent,  watching  for  an  opportunity  to 
make  attacks  upon  the  white  settlers,  their  natural  animosity 
having  been  stimulated  and  directed  by  the  renegade  Tories 


THE     PROUD     BEAUTY     A     BRIDE.  325 

who  had  joined  them.  To  aid  in  the  scheme  Lawontica  pro 
posed,  was  an  easy  price  to  pay  for  obtaining  his  own  wishes ; 
but,  since  she  seemed  to  expect  some  opposition,  he  craftily 
refused  to  do  so,  unless  she  would  become  his  bride. 

She  could  hesitate  at  nothing  then,  and  the  compact  was 
scaled.  Afterward,  in  calmer  moments,  came  doubt,  regret, 
repentance ;  but  she  had  gone  too  far  to  recede  without 
shame.  The  unforgiving  temper  of  her  race  made  them 
scorn  any  leanings  to  mercy  which  interfered  with  the  retalia 
tion  due  to  an  injury  received ;  and  she  had  represented,  in 
general  terms,  that,  because  she  was  an  Indian,  she  had  been 
wronged  and  insulted.  The  happiness  she  had  ceased  to 
expect  from  love  she  determined  to  find  in  power ;  and,  when 
Tamaque  returned  to  fulfil  his  part  of  the  contract,  she  would 
not  weaken  her  influence  over  him  by  any  irresolution. 

She  had  passed  the  intervening  days  in  alternate  dread  and 
desire  for  his  coming,  changeful  fits  of  repentance  and  resent 
ment,  producing  such  gloom,  and  so  many  tears,  that  old 
Ssinoso  was  filled  with  anxiety.  But,  when  the  deed  was 
done,  Frank's  distress  and  suspicion  awakened  defiance,  and 
hardened  her  heart.  She  took  pleasure  in  his  pain.  She 
exulted  in  her  power  to  afflict  him.  The  vengeance  she  had 
planned  seemed  too  slow  for  her  avaricious  desire  to  wound 
and  harrow  his  feelings,  and  she  half  determined  her  victim 
should  be  murdered,  and  left  where  he  could  find  her  cold  in 
death. 

But  the  fiery  passion,  raging  all  the  more  fiercely  because 
all  expression  was  suppressed,  burnt  itself  out,  even  before 
28 


326  AGNES. 

she  saw  Agnes;  and  her  confiding  appeal  for  protection 
aroused  the  magnanimous  nature  that  would  make  its  voice 
heard.  That  compassionate  tone,  once  listened  to,  changed 
her  rage  into  a  remorseful  pity,  which  manifested  itself  in 
the  care  she  took  for  Agnes'  welfare.  She  could  not  yet 
relent  towards  the  principal  offender;  but,  with  an  abrupt 
transition  of  feeling,  she  began  to  excuse  Agnes,  and  deter 
mined  to  adopt  her  into  the  tribe,  and  thus  secure  for  her  all 
the  lenity  consistent  with  a  captive  state. 

After  leaving  her  upon  the  rude  couch,  Lawontica  pro 
ceeded  to  the  camping-place  of  her  own  party.  She  was 
careful,  by  stepping  on  logs  and  low  bushes,  to  leave  no  trace 
of  her  footsteps. 

Six  Indians  were  collected  around  a  fire.  They  had  built 
it  in  a  spot  where  some  large  trees,  overthrown  by  a  whirl 
wind,  made  a  dense  and  high  barricade  of  upturned  earth, 
roots,  trunks,  and  branches,  on  three  sides  of  them.  They 
had  gathered  a  large  quantity  of  brushwood,  part  of  which 
crackled  and  flamed  among  the  green  sticks  hissing  upon  the 
fire,  and  part  were  spread  upon  the  ground  in  one  corner, 
with  a  blanket  thrown  over  them.  This  was  intended  for 
Lawontica's  bed.  The  shelving  roots  and  overlying  branches 
formed  a  sort  of  roof  above  it,  and  sheltered  it  from  the 
weather. 

Some  venison  steaks,  fixed  upon  forked  sticks,  were  broiling 
slowly  in  favorable  positions  before  the  fire ;  and  around  it  the 
warriors,  gayly  dressed,  though  not  in  full  costume,  lay  in 
careless  and  picturesque  attitudes.  They  had  accompanied 


THE     PROUD     BEAUTY    A    BKIDE.  327 

Tamaque,  pot  as  a  bridal  escort,  —  for  that  would  have  been 
considered  a  very  superfluous  honor,  even  for  the  daughter  of 
the  "great  chief,"  —  but  to  assist  in  protecting  the  captive, 
should  she  be  pursued  and  discovered  by  her  friends'. 

They  did  not  trouble  themselves  with  any  burdensome 
civilities  when  Lawontica  joined  them.  Her  lover  alone 
changed  his  lazy  attitude,  and  motioned  for  her  to  take  thei 
warm  place  in  the  corner ;  but  gallantry  did  not  compel  him 
to  interfere,  as  she  gravely  declined  the  offer,  and  busied  her 
self  in  watching  the  meat,  and  bringing  fagots  to  replenish 
the  fire.  Her  brief  period  of  caprice  and  tyranny  was  pas! 
when  she  set  out  with  him  on  the  journey  to  his  lodge,  and 
she  had  the  good  sense  to  assume  gracefully  the  duties  so  sooo 
to  be  imposed  upon  her. 

When  the  steaks  were  cooked,  Lawontica  laid  them  upoa 
flat  pieces  of  the  bark  of  a  tree ;  some  parched  corn,  pounded 
fine  and  mixed  with  maple  sugar,  was  produced  ircm  one  of 
the  packs,  and  they  began  to  eat  with  the  greediness  of 
hungry  men.  She  then  withdrew  two  of  the  stones,  on  svhich. 
the  fire  was  first  built ;  and,  when  they  were  sufficiently  cool, 
wrapped  them  in  a  woollen  cloth,  and  returned  to  Agn^s. 
She  also  carried  upon  a  flat  piece  of  bark  a  slice  of  the  b.vt 
steak,  reserved  for  this  purpose. 

It  was  so  dark  that  she  could  not  see  her  captive's  face,  ns 
she  unfastened  the  curtain  and  looked  into  the  little  tent. 

"  You  here  ?  S'pose  you  ve'y  hungry  now  ?  "  she  said,  as 
Agnes  stirred,  roused  from  a  half-sleep  by  the  change  of  air, 


328  AGNES. 


"  No,  not  hungry.  —  Is  it  you,  Lawontica  ?  I  am  tired  to 
death  !  "  was  the  drowsy  reply. 

"  Maybe  you  eat  this,  then ;  it  rest  you.  Me  bring  you 
some  hot  stone,  too.  Ve'y  much  you  cold,  ve'y  much  these 
warm  you." 

As  she  spoke,  she  placed  the  piece  of  bark  in  Agnes'  hands, 
and  the  savory  smell  of  the  meat  quickened  her  appetite. 
Then  laying  the  stones,  one  at  her  feet  and  one  beside  her, 
tucking  the  skins  around  so  as  to  keep  in  the  warmth,  she 
replaced  the  curtain,  and  hastened  away  as  carefully  as 
before. 

Agnes  ate  the  food  with  a  hearty  relish,  although  she  had 
been  so  exhausted  as  to  be  unconscious  of  hunger ;  and  after 
wards,  hugging  the  hot  stone  in  her  arms,  she  nestled  under 
the  skins,  and  fell  into  a  deep,  refreshing  slumber. 

The  abrupt  tearing  down  of  her  frail  tent  first  aroused  her 
in  the  early  morning,  and,  after  a  breakfast  like  her  supper, 
brought  her  by  the  Indian,  she  was  ordered  to  rise  and 
pursue  her  way.  In  vain  she  pleaded  for  permission  to  join 
the  other  party.  The  scowling  face  of  her  guide  indicated 
no  knowledge  of  English,  and  he  would  not  understand  her 
signs.  When  she  persisted  in  the  request,  he  became  impa 
tient  and  struck  her,  pushing  her  forward  so  rudely  that  she 
stumbled  and  fell.  She  dared  no  longer  disobey,  and,  with  a 
heavy  heart,  walked  along  by  his  side. 

It  was  a  soft,  lowering  day,  and  the  fleecy  snow,  falling  at 
intervals,  melted  as  it  came  down ;  but  Agnes  would  have 
risked  freezing,  if  she  could  have  secured  such  clear,  cold 


THE     PROUD     BEAUTY     A     BRIDE.  329 

weather  as  would  have  kept  the  track  of  her  footsteps  for  her 
friends  to  follow,  and  enabled  her  to  note  more  definitely  the 
landscape  around.  From  occasional  sounds  that  reached  her, 
she  half  fancied  Lawontica  and  her  party  kept  near  them, 
though  out  of  sight ;  and  the  conjecture  was  verified  when,  at 
evening,  with  the  same  precautions  and  the  same  care  for  her 
comfort,  she  was  warmed,  and  fed,  and  snugly  lodged.  But 
Lawontica  did  not  appear.  Her  guide  was  assisted  by  one  of 
his  own  sex,  who  was  waiting  when  they  came  to  the  precon 
certed  halting-place.  It  was  a  deep  gorge  between  two  hills, 
and  the  other  party  and  their  fire  were  out  of  sight,  near 
the  brow  of  the  precipice  that  frowned  above  her. 

Could  she  have  kept  her  weary  eyelids  open,  and  her 
senses  unlocked  from  slumber,  on  that  night,  she  might  have 
heard  the  friends  who  sought  her,  as  they  passed  close  beside 
her  hidden  resting-place.  But  she  had  lost  courage  and 
hope.  Whichever  way  her  thoughts  turned,  they  met  only 
phantoms  of  distress  and  fear.  She  felt  as  if  forsaken  by 
God  and  man.  From  that  time  forth  a  nightmare  spell  was 
upon  her,  and  she  walked  and  ate  and  slept  as  one  goes 
through  the  events  of  a  dreadful  dream. 

As  they  proceeded  further  and  further  from  the  settle 
ments,  the  country  through  which  they  passed  became  moun 
tainous,  and  difficult  of  access.  They  were  going  to  a 
village  occupied  by  a  remnant  of  the  Delaware  tribe,  and  a 
few  Iroquois,  situated  on  one  of  the  small  streams  that  empty 
into  the  Great  Bend  of  the  Susquehanna ;  and,  although  they 
kept  in  the  valleys  as  much  as  possible,  they  were  obliged  to 
28* 


330  AGNES. 

climb  several  steep  hills,  and  the  path  was  everywhere  diffi 
cult.  The  cold  also  increased,  and  Agnes,  wholly  unused  to 
exposure,  suffered  severely.  After  the  first  three  nights  she 
was  allowed  a  fire  when  they  halted,  and  the  guns  of  the 
hunters  supplied  them  with  nourishing  food ;  but  every  night 
she  was  more  and  more  exhausted,  as  she  threw  herself  upon 
the  heap  of  boughs,  and  every  morning  she  arose  so  weary 
that  it  seemed  impossible  she  could  live  through  another  day. 
Yet  she  endured  wonderfully,  and  it  was  not  until  they  were 
within  a  few  miles  of  their  destination  that  her  strength 
utterly  failed,  and  she  fell  fainting  to  the  ground. 

Lawontica  and  the  remainder  of  the  party  were  but  a  little 
way  in  advance,  and  the  Indian's  call  brought  them  back  to 
assist  him.  He  had  lost  all  patience,  and  refused  to  have 
anything  more  to  do  with  his  irksome  charge.  In  his  opinion, 
the  most  sensible  way  would  be  to  take  her  scalp  and  leave 
her  there,  where  she  would  be  no  more  trouble.  What  would 
she  be  good  for  ?  She  would  never  be  able  to  work. 

But  Lawontica  had  other  views,  and,  by  a  little  female 
diplomacy,  she  persuaded  her  lover,  who  influenced  the  others, 
and  a  rude  litter  was  constructed,  on  which  Agnes  was  laid, 
helpless  and  moaning  with  pain. 

Nothing  could  induce  them  to  enter  the  village  bearing 
such  an  ignoble  burden ;  but  they  turned  aside  a  mile  or  two, 
and  left  the  sufferer  in  the  lodge  of  an  old  squaw,  who  lived 
alone  on  the  mountain. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE    WOLF-MANITTO. 

Two  or  three  days  of  stupor  and  exhaustion  followed,  from 
which  Agnes  was  aroused  one  morning  by  a  hideous  din,  that 
might  almost  have  waked  the  dead.  The  door  of  the  lodge 
was  tightly  closed,  and  the  small  windows  shut.  A  large  fire 
burned  upon  the  floor,  over  which  hung  a  pot.  Into  this  the 
old  woman,  Akzie,  dipped  a  gourd,  and  poured  the  boiling 
liquid  upon  a  row  of  heated  stones  beside  the  sufferer's  couch, 
almost  suffocating  her  with  a  hot,  medicated  vapor.  Mean 
time,  she  was  singing,  with  a  monotonous  tone  much  resem 
bling  that  of  a  screech-owl,  and  rattling  in  one  hand  a 
calabash  containing  pebbles. 

Her  object  was  in  the  highest  degree  benevolent.  She 
wished  to  drive  away  the  evil  spirit  who  kept  her  patient 
insensible,  and  was  delighted  with  the  success  of  her  effort, 
as  she  saw  Agues  start  up  suddenly,  with  a  look  that  told  she 
was  conscious  of  what  was  going  on.  Having  thrown  the 
calabash  into  the  fire,  as  an  offering  to  the  departing  spirit,  and 

attentively  watched,  for  a  few  moments,  the  blue  smoke  that 
I 

"  Curled  and  crowded  up  the  smoke-flue," 


332  AGNES. 

she  approached  the  bed  and  felt  of  Agnes'  pulse,  looked  into 
her  mouth  and  eyes,  and  ejaculated, 

"  Wullit  !  amimens — pommauchfin !  "* 

Agnes  was  too  feeble  to  reply,  even  if  she  had  understood 
the  language,  and  her  nurse  turned  to  the  fire,  and,  taking 
part  of  the  liquid  from  the  pot,  in  which  herbs  were  boiling, 
mixed  it  with  something  she  poured  from  a  bottle-shaped 
gourd,  and  held  the  draught  to  Agnes'  lips.  She  sipped  a 
little,  and,  finding  it  palatable,  drank  the  whole.  Again  the 
old  woman  ejaculated  "  Wullit,"  and,  carefully  tucking  the 
skins  around  her,  left  her  to  repose. 

Almost  immediately  she  was  sensible  of  a  profuse  perspira 
tion,  and  a  cessation  of  the  pain  which  had  racked  her 
stiffened  limbs,  and  before  long  she  sank  into  a  light  and 
refreshing  slumber. 

When  she  again  awoke  she  asked  for  food.  Akzie  had 
prepared  a  broth  made  of  rattlesnake's  flesh  dried  and 
pounded,  which  was  considered  by  Indian  doctors  the  most 
nourishing  diet  for  an  invalid.  But,  as  Agnes  could  not  eat 
it,  she  substituted  some  cakes  of  Indian  corn,  broken  into 
small  pieces,  and  dipped  into  maple-syrup. 

Akzie  had  some  repute  as  a  doctress,  and  exerted  all  her 
skill  to  restore  the  patient  confided  to  her  care.  She  could 
prepare  various  powerful  medicines  from  roots  and  barks 
collected  in  the  forest;  and  for  the  fever  and  rheumatic  pain, 
induced  by  such  severe  fatigue,  she  applied  the  bark  of  the 

*  Good  !  my  child  —  you  will  live  ! 


THE     WOLF-MANITTO.  333 

white  walnut,  and  the  fossil  oil,  or  petroleum,  collected  from 
natural  springs  in  the  vicinity. 

But  here  her  skill  ended.  She  had  no  "  medicine  for  the 
mind  diseased."  She  could  not  cure  the  quiet  melancholy, 
the  pining,  listless  apathy,  that  kept  the  pulse  weak  and  the 
limbs  weary.  Her  most  renowned  specifics  failed  for  this,  and 
she  concluded  that  a  spirit  more  obstinate  or  powerful  than 
any  she  had  hitherto  coped  with  had  taken  possession  of  the 
girl. 

One  afternoon,  three  weeks  after  she  had  been  brought 
there,  Agnes  for  the  first  time  crossed  the  threshold,  and  sat 
down  on  a  stone  outside  the  door.  The  hut  was  built  in  a 
warm,  sheltered  nook,  facing  the  west,  and  not  very  far  up 
the  mountain  side.  Behind  it  rose  a  steep  wall  of  rock,  with 
ledges,  in  which  vines  and  various  shrubs  had  taken  root, 
growing  thin  and  stunted  in  the  insufficient  soil.  Its  top 
was  crowned  with  a  more  vigorous  growth,  of  evergreens, 
mingled  with  other  trees,  that  in  summer  bedecked  the  moun 
tain  greenly,  but  now  stood  black  and  desolate.  Beneath  the 
foot  of  this  cliff  trickled  a  small  stream,  whose  warm  spring 
did  not  yield  to  the  frost ;  and,  as  it  now  ran  past  the  end  of 
the  wigwam,  its  low  gurgling  over  its  worn  channel  was  the 
only  sound  that  broke  the  silence. 

Prom  the  open  space  before  her  she  looked  down  upon  the 
tops  of  trees  in  the  valley  below ;  and  directly  opposite,  so 
near  it  seemed  as  if  she  might  touch  it,  another  steep  moun 
tain  reared  itself  darkly  till  its  crest  reached  the  horizon,  and 
there  all  its  leafless  trees,  and  the  black  cones  of  firs,  stood 


334  AGNES. 

quivering  between  long  flashes  of  crimson  light,  as  if  they 
palpitated  with  the  glory  of  sunset. 

There  was  nothing  else.  Those  two  mountains,  and  the 
lonely  hut,  with  its  bent  and  wrinkled  inmate,  were  all  that 
met  her  view.  The  forest  shut  her  up  to  these.  „ 

She  looked  upward.  Ay,  there  the  view  was  boundless. 
Up,  up,  miles  into  the  crystal  blue,  far  past  those  tongues  of 
flame-like  cloudj  her  glance  might  pass  unimpeded.  But  the 
shining  ether  dazzled  her,  the  infinitude  oppressed  her  weak 
heart.  If  help  might  come  from  thence,  she  had  no  strength 
to  reach  out  her  hands  for  it ;  and,  helpless  and  despairing, 
she  bowed  her  head  and  wept. 

Old  Akzie  watched  her  with  a  pitying  expression,  now  and 
then  muttering  some  Indian  words  to  herself.  She  had  some 
time  before  ceased  to  attempt  talking  with  her  guest,  for  they 
could  not  understand  each  other.  At  length,  she  arose  from 
her  seat  by  the  fire,  and,  going  to  the  door,  took  Agnes'  hand 
and  drew  her  within  the  hut,  saying,  by  a  significant  shiver 
and  cough,  that  there  was  danger  she  would  take  cold.  Then 
she  placed  beside  the  couch,  where  the  girl  had  thrown  herself, 
a  wooden  plate,  containing  cakes  made  of  flour  and  flavored 
with  dried  berries,  a  dish  of  hominy,  and  a  gourd  containing 
maple-sugar. 

Agnes  smiled  languidly  at  these  formidable  preparations 
to  satisfy  an  appetite  so  slight  as  hers ;  but  Akzie  made  her 
understand,  by  signs,  that  she  was  going  away,  and  this  food 
was  to  last  until  her  return. 

When  Lawontica  left  her  captive  to  Akzie 's  care,  she  begged 


THE     WOLF-MANITTO.  335' 

her  to  use  every  effort  for  her  recovery ;  and  the  kincU 
hearted  old  woman,  now  that  her  own  skill  had  failed,  pro 
posed  to  apply  to  a  mighty  conjuror,  who  lived  on  one  of  the 
mountains  near.  But  little  preparation  was  required  for  the 
visit.  Her  usual  dress  consisted  of  a  flannel  shirt  she  had 
bought  from  a  trader.  It  was  fastened  over  the  bosom  with 
large  silver  buckles.  A  cloth  petticoat,  scarcely  a  yard  in 
width,  reached  below  her  knees,  and  her  leggins  were  made 
of  the  same  material.  Her  feet  were  covered  with  moc 
casins  of  deer-skin.  Her  long  gray  hair  was  tied  in  a 
queue. 

She  put  on  a  man's  hat,  considerably  worn  and  battered, 
threw  a  blanket  over  her  shoulders,  took  from  her  secret  store 
of  treasures  a  string  of  wampum  as  an  offering  to  the 
mighty  man,  and  when  she  went  out  set  up  the  piece  of 
bark  that  formed  the  outside  door  of  her  hut,  placing  a  stake 
against  it  as  a  fastening. 

Agnes  was  left  alone,  and  for  a  short  time  her  nurse's 
absence  was  a  positive  relief.  Half  reclining  on  her  couch, 
she  watched  the  flames  of  the  fire  flickering,  sinking,  rising 
again  in  long  flashes,  that  shot  upward,  on  clouds  of  smoke, 
into  the  blue  air  above.  With  a  sad,  calm  wonder,  as  one 
listens  to  an  unfortunate  friend  one  cannot  aid,  she  thought 
over  her  whole  life,  with  its  strange  vicissitudes.  Her  calm 
childhood,  sunny  as  the  May  morning  on  which  her  eyes  first 
opened ;  the  peaceful  village  where  her  young  life  grew  to 
maidenhood ;  the  love  that  came  like  a  destiny,  and  changed 
all — sudden  love,  that  flashed  through  her  innocent  existence, 


336  AGNES. 

as   the   lightning  through  white  summer  clouds,  and,  alas 

scathed  like  the  lightning.     Then  she  remembered  the  fierce, 

» 
burning  delirium  of  anger  and  despair,  and  the  hope  which 

rose,  phoenix-like,  from  the  ashes  of  that  spent  fire,  and  led 
her  on,  struggling  through  difficulty  and  peril,  to  end  —  how? 

Was  it  ended  ?  —  was  this  the  end  ?  She  held  up  her  thin 
hands  to  the  light,  and  passed  them  over  her  wan  face.  Ah, 
surely  she  had  little  strength  remaining  in  that  emaciated 
frame,  little  power  or  life  to  struggle  more.  But  the  one 
thought,  the  love  which  had  possessed  her,  blind  and  unrea 
soning  as  an  instinct,  yet  mighty  as  an  inspiration,  changing 
her  timid  and  passive  nature,  and  urging  her  to  effort,  now 
revived  from  its  temporary  quiescence. 

She  would  not  die  there.  She  would  force  herself  to  eat, 
to  sleep,  to  gain  strength.  She  would  be  patient  and  hopeful ; 
she  would  watch  and  wait.  When  spring  came,  she  would 
find  her  way  back  to  the  world,  to  that  one  spot  which  was 
her  world  —  then  would  be  time  enough  to  die ! 

A  slight  noise  arrested  her  attention;  a  quick  footstep 
approached,  the  door  was  thrown  down,  the  curtain  pulled 
aside,  and  dropped  again  behind  one  entering.  Agnes  sprang 
to  her  feet,  in  alarm ;  but  in  the  dim  hut  Lawontica  stood, 
with  the  firelight  gleaming  over  her,  as  she  leaned  forward, 
shading  her  eyes  that  she  might  see  more  clearly. 
.  The  white  face  opposite,  with  its  golden  curls,  seemed  to 
look  at  her  from  out  a  cloud,  and  the  close  air  stifled  her. 
She  flung  back  the  curtain  violently,  and  turned  again  to  the 
door.  The  chill  winter  twilight  streamed  down  upon  her 


THE     W  0  L  F  -  51  A  N  I  T  T  0  .  337 

between  the   hills,  and  the  crescent  moon,  jewelled  with  a 
large,  lambent  star,  hung  trembling  in  the  dark  above. 

Agnes  followed  her  to  the  door  and  stood  near,  yet  not 
touching  her.  They  had  not  met  before,  though  Lawontica  had 
been  to  the  hut ;  for  her  visits  had  been  at  times  when  the 
invalid  was  asleep.  They  stood  there,  those  two,  so  different 
and  yet  so  strangely  united,  and  for  a  few  moments  neither 
spoke.  Agnes  had  thought  of  many  reproaches,  but  she 
could  not  utter  them  now.  The  awful  majesty  of  night,  and 
solitude,  and  silence,  hushed  her  spirit  to  a  perfect  calm. 
They  two  alone  there  amid  the  infinity  of  nature,  that  told 
God  was  so  near  !  How  could  earthly  passions  dare  to  speak 
where  there  was  no  other  voice  or  sound,  and  the  dark  shad 
ows  seemed  to  wrap  them  close,  away  from  the  world  of  man? 

A  prayer  arose  out  of  her  heart,  and  God  heard  it  in  the 
darkness.  She  drew  nearer,  and  laid  her  cold  head  upon  the 
Warm,  throbbing  palms  Lawontica  had  pressed  tight  together. 

"  How  awful  and  yet  how  glorious  is  the  night!  "  she  said. 
"  Why  do  you  tremble  so,  Lawontica  ?  " 

"  It  is  cold.  I  shiver.  Come  in ! "  replied  the  Indian 
girl,  shrinking  away  from  her  touch,  and  gliding  through  the 
low  doorway. 

Agnes  obeyed,  wondering  at  her  companion's  excitement ; 
and  when  she  had  seated  herself  on  the  ground  by  the  fire 
again,  asked, 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?     You  tremble  still !  " 

"  You  been  sick,"  replied  Lawontica,  evasively. 
29 


A  G  N  E'S  . 

"  Yes,  I  've  been  sick.  Did  n't  you  think  I  would  be  ?  " 
Agnes  said,  in  a  reproachful  tone. 

Lawontica  looked  up,  with  a  strange  expression.  Her  face, 
her  hands,  her  whole  frame,  were  quivering.  The  words  she 
meant  to  say  died  on  her  lips.  It  was  the  night  after  Frank's 
escape  from  the  village.  That  morning,  Shamokin,  the  war- 
captain,  the  favorite  brave  of  the  tribe,  had  been  found  dead 
in  the  lodge  from  which  his  prisoners  had  fled.  The  most 
terrible  excitement  had  followed.  Shamokin's  wife  was  La- 
wontica's  half-sister,  and,  having  an  inkling  of  the  position  of 
affairs,  had  overwhelmed  her  with  loud  reproaches  for  having 
brought  this  trouble  upon  them,  both  by  stealing  away  the  cap 
tive,  and  by  afterwards  interfering  to  procure  the  release  of  the 
two  white  men  who  had  come  in  search  of  Agnes.  Added  to 
this,  Shamokin's  words  had  made  Tamaque  furiously  jealous ; 
and,  on  his  return  to  their  lodge,  after  the  council  broke  up,  he 
had  scolded  and  beaten  her  for  the  fart  she  had  acted.  Her 
womanly  dignity  thus  insulted,  and  her  fiercest  passions 
roused,  she  had  still  too  much  pride  to  betray  to  her  compan 
ions  the  tempest  raging  in  her  heart.  The  warriors  and 
chiefs  had  all  joined  in  chasing  the  white  men,  determined  to 
have  vengeance  for  the  loss  they  had  sustained,  and  the  women 
had  passed  the  day  in  bewailing  the  dead. 

Lawontica  had  borne  through  all  a  cold,  impassive  face, 
and  a  mien  that  indicated  nothing  of  her  feelings.  But  self- 
control  could  not  last  forever,  and,  in  her  rapid  walk  to  the 
hut,  she  had  relieved  her  "  pent  bosom  "  by  sobs  and  passion 
ate  cries.  Then,  Agnes'  pallid,  wasted  features,  and  mournful 


THE     WOLF-MANITTO.  339 

eyes,  met  her  like  the  face  of  an  accusing  spirit,  rousing  a 
train  of  emotion  new  and  equally  painful.  Untutored  as 
she  was,  she  saw  how,  by  yielding  to  her  wild  impulses,  she 
had  involved  herself  and  all  dear  to  her  in  peril  and  sorrow. 
She  no  longer  wept,  but,  as  a  string  suddenly  snapt  after 
strong  pressure  vibrates  long,  her  quivering  nerves  and  mus 
cles  revealed  the  rage,  remorse,  and  grief,  which  had  by  turns 
convulsed  her. 

When  Agnes'  words  of  reproach  met  her  ear,  she  turned 
upon  her  suddenly,  with  burning,  fiery  eyes,  and  a  sharp  tone, 
full  of  scorn  and  passion. 

"  You  think  nobody  sick  but  you !  Look,  now  !  Me  feel 
so  bad  maybe  me  take  poison  !  —  maybe  me  kill  myself  to- 
moller ! " 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

She  paused  a  moment,  and  then,  gazing  steadily  at  Agnes, 
replied, 

"  He  come  here !  —  Flank  —  he  come  !  He  come  for 
you !  " 

"  What  do  you  say  ? "  cried  Agnes,  in  great  agitation. 
"  Has  Frank  been  here  ?  Where  is  he  ?  0,  do  let  me  go 
home  with  him  !  " 

She  clasped  her  hands,  and,  crouching  on  the  floor,  looked 
up  with  the  most  beseeching  expression.  But  the  face  she 
gazed  at  grew  very  pale  and  stern. 

"  He  gone  —  no  matter.  Never  you  go  back  with  him  — 
never,  never !  Me  no  let  you." 

"  0  Lawontica  !  what  have  I  done  ?" 


340  AGNES. 

"  You  ?  —  You  love  him !  You  marry  him !  "  exclaimed 
Lawontica,  springing  up ;  and  her  tone  was  as  if  the  words 
had  been  jerked  from  her  lips  by  the  act. 

"  I  ?  —  0,  no,  no,  —  never  !  "  replied  Agnes,  shaking  her 
head  slowly,  with  a  pitiful  half-sigh. 

Her  manner  more  than  her  words  arrested  her  hearer,  and 
compelled  belief. 

"What!  not  love  him? — not  love  Flank?"  she  cried, 
incredulously. 

"No.  What  made  you  think  I  did?"  said  Agnes,  in  a 
more  decided  tone. 

"  Ve'y  much  he  love  you." 

"  And  was  that  what  you  brought  me  here  for  ?  " 

Lawontica  turned  away  her  head,  but  her  silence  was 
expressive. 

"0,  Lawontica,"  Agnes  broke  forth,  in  a  tumult  of  feeling, 
"  I  did  not  love  him.  He  would  have  forgotten  me  soon. 
I  was  going  away  the  next  day.  I  should  never  have  seen 
him  any  more.  He  would  have  loved  some  one  else,  and  been 
happy.  0,  foolish  girl !  you  have  perilled  his  life,  you  have 
ruined  yourself  and  me.  No,  no,  I  $id  not  love  him  —  not 
as  you  mean.  I  could  not !  " 

"  Could  not  ?  What  for  ?  "  The  anxiety,  the  despair  of 
her  tone,  was  terrible. 

Agnes  paused  a  moment.  Was  it  the  reflection  of  the  fire 
light,  or  did  a  faint  blush  steal  up,  reddening  the  marble 
whiteness  of  her  face,  and  suffusing  the  dark,  troubled  eyes  ? 


THE    WOLF-MANITTO.  341 

Lawontica  seized  her  arm  with  a  grasp  that  left  its  mark 
after. 

"  Tell  'urn  me,  what  for  ?  "  she  repeated. 

Agnes  threw  her  other  arm  around  the  girl's  neck.  The 
muscles  were  like  steel,  but  the  proud  head  yielded  to  that 
gentle  touch  till  she  could  whisper  something  she  appeared 
afraid  to  speak  aloud. 

When  she  withdrew  her  lips,  Lawontica  turned  upon  her  as 
if  half  insane. 

"  Is  that  true  ?  You  sure  you  speak  me  true  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Yes,  0,  yes !     Believe  me,  it  is  true !  " 

Lawontica  threw  her  from  her  with  a  reckless  force,  and 
rushed  out  of  the  hut.  Agnes  fell  upon  the  heap  of  skins,  and 
was  unhurt.  She  sprang  to  the  door  in  a  moment,  and  called 
loudly,  but  she  was  too  late.  The  darkness  swallowed  up 
her  voice,  and  gave  back  no  echo.  She  listened.  There  was 
the  faint  shiver  and  murmur  of  the  pine-trees  to  the  rising 
wind,  or  now  and  then  the  crackling  fall  of  icicles,  as  the 
branches  shook  off  their  crystal  burden,  but  nothing  more. 

The  stillness  seemed  appalling,  the  solitude  oppressive,  after 
that  brief,  fervid  scene  through  which  she  had  passed.  All 
she  had  ever  heard  or  read  of  the  terrors  and  perils  of  the 
wilderness,  of  savage  beasts  and  savage  men,  crowded  into  her 
mind.  She  drew  up  the  outer  door  as  well  as  she  could,  and, 
fastening  the  curtain  tightly  within,  replenished  the  fire,  and 
threw  herself  once  more  upon  her  couch,  to  pass  long,  sleep, 
less  hours. 

29* 


342  AGNES. 

Nature,  exhausted,  at  length  gave  way,  and  her  slumber 
was  prolonged  and  deep.  The  opening  of  the  door,  the 
streaming  in  of  the  cool  morning  air  and  the  light,  awoke  her 
in  time  to  see  old  Akzie  enter  the  hut,  followed  by  a  figure  so 
grotesque  and  hideous  that  she  could  not  repress  a  scream  of 
terror. 

Akzie  said,  "  Hoosh,  hoosh  !  Manitto,  Manitto  !  "  making, 
as  she  spoke,  a  reverential  gesture  towards  the  creature  lin 
gering  in  the  doorway,  and,  while  she  patted  Agnes'  shoulder 
assuringly  with  one  hand,  beckoning  with  the  other  for  him 
to  enter. 

He  appeared  to  be  an  immense  wolf,  with  glassy  eyes,  and 
teeth  grinning  horribly.  Occasionally  he  raised  himself 
upon  his  hind  legs,  and  turned  his  head  from  side  to  side, 
but  would  not  advance  till  Akzie  produced  string  after  string 
of  wampum,  and  laid  it  before  him.  Sufficient  time  had 
elapsed  for  Agnes  to  recover  from  the  first  shock  of  his  ap 
pearance,  and  this  avaricious  desire  for  money  seemed  so 
much  like  a  human  rather  than  a  wolfish  disposition,  that  she 
began  to  suspect  who  her  strange  visitor  might  be. 

% 

Perceiving  that  Akzie  had  emptied  her  treasure-chest,  —  if 
a  hole  in  the  floor  where  she  kept  her  wampum  may  be  dignified 
by  that  name, — the  creature  gathered  the  strings  together  with 
his  paw,  and,  lifting  them  to  his  mouth,  seemed  to  swallow 
them.  Then,  with  a  spring  like  a  wild  beast,  and  a  prolonged 
howl,  he  came  to  Agnes'  side. 

By  a  great  effort  she  retained  some  degree  of  composure, 
but  hardly  knew  whether  to  shudder  or  laugh  at  the  unprece- 


THE     WOLF-MANITTO.  343 

dented  situation  in  which  she  found  herself.  The  wolf  smelled 
around  her,  one  moment  howling  and  cutting  such  strange 
antics  that  she  began  to  consider  herself  a  veritable  "  little  Red 
Hiding-Hood,"  about  to  be  eaten  up,  and  the  nest  moment 
sitting  quietly  on  his  haunches,  and  feeling  her  pulse  and 
clasping  her  arm  with  a  touch  that  restored  her  confidence, 
since  she  detected  beneath  the  wolf's  claws  the  fingers  of  a 
man's  hand. 

After  some  time  consumed  in  this  way,  he  drew  from  his 
open  jaws  various  small  packages,  some  of  which  he  threw 
upon  the  fire,  filling  the  air  with  a  sickening  odor,  and  the 
rest  he  mixed,  and,  after  various  incantations,  filled  the  gourd 
containing  them  with  water,  and  held  it  to  Agnes'  lips. 

But  she  was  determined  not  to  drink,  and,  though  she  felt 
ill  and  faint,  persisted  in  her  refusal.  This  displeased  the 
creature,  who  redoubled  his  howls  ;  and,  to  obtain  a  moment 
of  quiet,  she  took  the  gourd  in  her  own  hands,  pretending  she 
was  about  to  comply  with  his  wishes.  As  he  waited,  she 
turned  to  Akzie  with  a  look  of  inquiry.  The  old  woman's 
face  expressed  the  utmost  anxiety  and  awe,  and  she  tried  to 
make  Agnes  understand  that  if  she  drank  she  would  vomit 
forth  the  evil  spirit,  and  be  cured  of  her  illness. 

But  the  patient  did  not  fancy  the  mode  of  cure,  and,  with 
a  quick  motion,  overturned  the  whole  upon  the  ground.  The 
sorcerer  sprang  upon  her  with  a  yell,  as  if  he  would  have  torn 
her  limb  from  limb,  seized  her  with  his  paws,  shook  her  with 
a  very  human  rage,  and  then  ran  out  of  the  hut,  imitating  the 
gait  of  the  animal  whose  form  he  had  assumed. 


344  AGNES. 

Akzie  was  paralyzed  with  terror.  The  offended  sorcerer 
might,  she  thought,  visit  her  with  any  infirmity,  any  torment 
ing  disease,  any  misfortune  he  chose  to  inflict,  as  a  punishment 
for  treating  his  most  precious  medicines  with  such  audacious 
contempt.  She  believed  he  could,  by  a  subtle  charm,  even 
cause  her  death  within  a  few  hours,  without  coming  near  her 
again.  She  was  very  miserable  through  the  day,  and  many 
times  threw  tobacco  on  the  fire,  and  prostrated  herself  before 
it,  crying,  "  Here,  take  that  and  smoke,  and  don't  hurt  me." 

Agnes  pitied  her  superstition,  and  became  interested  in 
endeavoring  to  remove  it.  She  assumed  a  calm,  cheerful 
manner,  and  often  pointed  upwards  and  repeated  the  name  of 
God,  as  if  invoking  his  protection.  But  Akzie's  fears  could 
not  be  pacified.  She  was  not  worshipping  the  devil,  as  Agnes 
supposed,  —  for  most  of  the  Indians  considered  the  devil  to 
exist  only  for  the  use  of  white  people,  —  but  the  man  whose 
aid  she  had  been  at  some  pains  to  procure  had  made  himself 
feared  by  all  in  the  surrounding  villages.  He  lived  alone,  in 
various  places  among  the  mountains,  removing  his  residence 
as  suited  his  fancy.  As  he  seldom  allowed  himself  to  be  seen 
in  his  own  form,  many  believed  him  to  be  a  "  wolf-manitto," 
a  divinity  subordinate  to  the  Great  Spirit,  yet  endued  with 
much  power ;  and  that  he  could,  at  pleasure,  take  either  the 
human  form  or  any  other  he  chose.  Long  habit  had  enabled 
him  to  copy  the  habits  of  the  bear  and  wolf  so  closely  that 
he  was  enabled  to  keep  up  this  delusion. 

The  Indians  believed  there  were  many  of  these  inferior 
deities,  and  that  the  Great  Spirit  preferred  to  be  worshipped 


THE     WOLF-MA'NITTO.  345 

through  sacrifices  offered  to  them.  They  looked  upon  the 
elements,  almost  all  animals,  and  even  some  plants,  as  inhab 
ited  by  spirits  more  or  less  dignified  and  powerful,  and  had 
full  faith  that  sometimes  these  "  manittoes  "  revealed  them 
selves  to  men,  lived  with  them,  and  were  capable  of  doing 
them  great  good  or  harm. 

The  "  wolf-manitto  "  was  an  expert  juggler,  who  had  ac 
quired  almost  unlimited  power  over  the  superstitious  in  that 
vicinity.  The  mystery  he  maintained  about  his  place  of 
abode,  appearing  now  here,  now  there,  at  unexpected  moments, 
the  skill  he  had  acquired  in  medicine,  and  in  observing  the 
weather  and  foretelling  its  changes,  made  him  a  wonder,  and 
an  object  of  dread.  They  brought  abundant  offerings  of  corn, 
tobacco,  and  vegetables,  to  the  places  where  he  was  known 
sometimes  to  dwell,  expecting  him  to  be  aware  of  it,  and  to 
give  them  a  favorable  journey  or  a  successful  hunt.  And 
when  they  happened  to  find  him  present,  they  were  ready  to 
pay  him  any  amount  of  wampum  to  cure  their  sick,  and  to 
buy  from  him  the  charms  or  "  besoms  "  he  sold,  powerful  to 
ward  off"  danger,  or  procure  some  coveted  good. 

It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  if  Akzie  was  overcome  with 
alarm  at  the  angry  snarl  by  which  he  had  testified  his  dis 
pleasure.  At  first  she  simply  waited,  trembling,  for  the 
swift  destruction  she  anticipated.  But,  as  it  did  not  come, 
she  began  to  hope  that  by  getting  rid  of  her  guest  she  might 
avert  the  danger.  A  day  and  a  night  had  passed,  and  as  she 
did  not  yet  feel  the  pains  of  dissolution,  she  took  courage,  and 


346  A  a  N  E  s . 

set  out  to  go  to  the  village  and  tell  Lawontiba  she  must  come 
and  take  the  captive  to  her  own  lodge. 

Agnes  was  very  unwilling  to  be  left  again  alone.  The  ex 
citement  of  the  last  few  days  had  been  of  benefit,  and  her 
eyes  were  brighter,  and  her  step  less  languid.  Hope  had  en 
tered  her  heart,  bringing  its  dreams  of  the  future  to  cheer  the 
barrenness  and  alleviate  the  annoyances  of  her  present  life ; 
and,  to  divert  the  thought  which  had  been  fixed  too  much  upon 
herself,  she  had  conjectures  in  regard  to  Lawontica,  and  fears 
for  the  safety  of  those  friends  who  had  sought  her  in  the 
wilderness. 

She  longed  inexpressibly  to  see  Lawontica  again,  and 
know  all  that  had  transpired.  When  Akzie  put  on  her 
blanket  to  go  out,  she  begged  for  permission  to  accompany 
her,  but  it  was  denied.  The  old  woman  pushed  her  back 
roughly  into  the  hut,  fastened  the  door  upon  her,  and  walked 
away,  shaking  her  head  and  crooning  Indian  syllables  as  she 
struck  her  staff  into  the  snow.  She  looked  like  a  witch  mut 
tering  spells,  and  trying  the  strength  of  her  broomstick 
before  mounting  for  a  flight. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

LIFE   IN    THE   LODGES. 

THE  path  from  the  hut  wound  around  the  mountain,  and 
down  into  the  narrow  valley  where  Lawontica  lived.  Akzie 
had  started  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  it  was  dark  when  she 
arrived  at  the  village.  As  she  passed  up  the  valley,  just 
beyond  the  sudden  turn  of  the  stream  towards  Umquabog, 
she  came  upon  a  collection  of  posts  set  in  the  earth.  It  was 
a  burial-place,  and  these  were  the  monuments.  Each  was 
ornamented  with  some  significant  device.  A  chiefs  was 
neatly  carved  with  emblematical  figures,  telling  his  services 
or  his  character.  The  captain's  was  painted  red,  and  bore  a 
rude  portrait  of  him  who  slept  below.  A  physician's  was 
hung  with  the  small  tortoise-shells  and  calabash  he  had  used 
in  his  practice.  The  graves  of  humble  individuals  were 
marked  simply  with  the  "  totem  "  of  their  tribe  or  family. 

Beside  these  some  old  women  were  digging  another  grave. 
This  work,  too  repulsive  for  the  young,  was  devolved  upon 
them ;  and,  as  the  frozen  earth  yielded  slowly  to  their  rude 
implements,  they  accompanied  their  labor  with  a  rise  and  fall 
of  the  voice,  doleful  and  monotonous  in  the  extreme.  She 


o4  AGNES. 

asked  for  whom  they  were  at  work,  and  they  told  her  of 
Shamokin's  death,  extolling  him  as  a  brave  warrior,  devoted 
to  his  nation,  and  interrupting  themselves  with  shrieks  and 
lamentations. 

The  Indians  who  went  in  pursuit  of  Lawson  and  his  party 
had  returned  during  that  day,  bringing  back  the  dead  body  of 
one  of  their  number,  and  two  others  wounded.  The  escite- 
ment  in  the  village  was  intense.  Rage  and  grief  struggled  for 
mastery  on  every  face.  Not  to  have  taken  one  prisoner  to 
wreak  their  vengeance  upon  was  a  disappointment  too  great 
to  be  borne,  and  mingled  with  regrets  for  the  dead  were 
fierce  threats  against  the  living.  Immediately  after  finding 
him  dead,  they  had  dressed  Shamokin's  corpse  in  a  new  suit, 
with  the  face  and  shirt  painted  red,  and  laid  him  on  a  mat  in 
the  centre  of  the  hut.  All  his  implements  of  war,  his  gun, 
his  tomahawk,  his  hatchet,  his  heavy  club  studded  with  iron 
nails,  were  brought  and  laid  in  a  pile  on  one  side,  and  on  the 
other  were  placed  his  clothes,  hunting  apparatus,  and  domes 
tic  goods.  In  the  evening,  far  into  the  night,  and  at  early 
morning  before  daylight,  the  female  relations  and  friends  had 
assembled  to  weep  and  howl  over  the  deceased. 

His  interment  was  to  take  place  that  evening,  and  when 
Akzie  reached  the  hut  where  he  lay  she  found  it  filled  with 
the  mournful  group.  Lawontica  was  among  them.  The 
cries  she  uttered,  longest,  shrillest  of  any,  were  burdened  with 
the  weight  of  misery  in  her  own  soul.  She  knew  not  where 
to  turn  for  relief  from  the  corroding  self-reproach  she  en 
dured.  That  Frank  and  his  brother  had  escaped  their  pur- 


LIFE     IN     THE     LODGES.  349 

suers  was  small  relief,  for  she  knew  their  fate  was  but  post 
poned.  Tamaque  was  bound  by  every  tie  of  honor  to  avenge 
the  death  of  his  relative;  and  an  Indian  never  forgets  such  a 
claim,  though  years  may  elapse  before  it  is  accomplished. 
She  had  never  loved  her  husband.  Now  these  thoughts  were 
added  to  the  memory  of  his  harsh  words  and  the  blows  he  had 
given  her  ;  and  though  in  this  she  had  but  suffered  the  usual 
lot  of  an  Indian  woman,  her  proud  spirit  rebelled  against  it 
none  the  less  bitterly.  She  realized  that  by  a  little  patience, 
a  little  forgiveness,  she  might  have  avoided  all  this ;  and  the 
"  law  written  in  her  heart,"  the  voice  of  conscience,  told  her 
that  her  punishment  was  just. 

Her  marriage  with  Tamaque  might  indeed  be  dissolved, 
for  the  Iroquois  held  that  tie  lightly,  and  husbands  and  wives 
could  part  and  form  other  unions  upon  the  most  trifling  pre 
text,  without  losing  character  among  their  companions.  But 
she  could  never  regain  the  position  she  had  lost,  as  a  favorite 
in  the  family  who  had  been  so  kind  to  her,  or  hope  for  even  a 
smile  of  friendship  from  the  man  she  had  loved  with  such  con 
suming  strength  of  affection.  These  reflections  maddened  her, 
and  she  broke  forth  into  such  wailing  cries,  that  Tamaque,  who 
listened,  thought  he  must  have  wronged  her  by  his  suspicions, 
and  repented  of  having  entertained  them.  Surely,  if  she  thus 
mourned  for  Shamokin,  her  heart  must  be  true  to  her  nation 
and  to  him. 

Later  in  the  evening,  the  nearest  relatives  of  the  dead 
entered  the  hut,  and  took  up  the  mat  on  which  the  body  lay. 
Others  seized  the  articles  heaped  beside  him,  and  thus  the 
30 


350  AGNES. 

irregular  procession  went  forth  to  the  grave.  The  young  boys 
ran  along  with  torches,  so  that  all  might  see  how  bravely  the 
corpse  was  dressed,  and  the  number  of  his  possessions.  The 
women  followed  at  some  distance  behind.  Even  his  wife  was 
not  allowed  any  particular  marks  of  attention  or  respect ;  for 
the  Delawares,  holding,  with  some  modern  progressives,  that 
the  marriage  tie  is  only  binding  so  long  as  the  parties  are 
pleased  with  each  other,  declared  "  a  man's  wife  was  no  rela 
tion  to  him,"  and  did  not  allow  her  any  share  in  the  honors 
of  the  funeral,  or  the  distribution  of  the  property. 

The  shallow  grave  was  lined  with  pieces  of  bark,  and  upon 
this  they  lowered  the  body,  with  its  head  towards  the  east, 
covering  it  with  one  large  piece,  which  had  been  stripped 
from  a  tree  and  flattened  for  the  purpose.  Then  the  frozen 
earth  was  heaped  above,  and  a  post  set  up,  painted  red,  to 
signify  the  rank  of  the  deceased.  The  scene  was  weird  and 
solemn.  Far  above  their  heads,  the  crests  of  the  hills  were 
relieved  in  black  outlines  against  the  clear  darkness  of  a 
night-sky,  lit  by  the  young  moon  and  her  attendant  stars. 
But  in  the  depths  of  the  valley  where  they  stood  the 
shadows  seemed  to  gather  more  heavily,  in  contrast  with  the 
ghostly,  gleaming  white  of  the  snow,  and  the  red  torch-light. 
The  rites  at  the  grave  were  conducted  in  silence,  and  with 
much  deliberation.  But  ever  and  anon,  from  out  the  gloom, 
at  a  little  distance,  came  the  wild  wailing  of  the  women,  who 
had  paused  there,  watching  the  ceremonies  in  which  they  had 
no  share. 

When  the  earth  and  snow  had  been  packed  and  smoothed 


LIFE     IN     THE     LODGES.  351 

over  the  opening,  and  the  memorial-post  set  up,  Shamokin's 
property  was  divided  among  his  friends,  and  the  strangers 
present  who  had  assisted  at  the  burial.*  From  this  moment 
it  was  proper  to  forget  the  dead,  and  the  men  went  back  to 
the  village,  and  passed  the  night  in  drinking  and  boasting  to 
each  other  of  their  achievements  in  war. 

The  women  retired  more  slowly ;  and  Akzie,  after  looking 
among  them  in  vain  for  Lawontica,  returned  to  the  grave, 
and  found  her  standing  beside  it. 

She  turned  at  the  sound  of  footsteps  near,  and,  recognizing 
her  visitor,  said,  sharply,  in  her  native  tongue, 

"What!  —  can  one  never  be  alone? — Always  peeking, 
prying  —  you  old  woman !  " 

"  Maybe  so  !  "  returned  Akzie,  highly  offended.  "  But  the 
white  woman  —  the  wolf-manitto,  he  eat  her  up." 

Lawontica's  tone  changed  to  one  of  alarm. 

"  What  you  been  doing  ?  "  she  cried,  catching  her  arm  to 
detain  her.  Akzie  was  going  away  in  anger,  but  a  few  kind 
words  mollified  her  temper.  She  really  loved  Lawontica,  and 
was-  anxious  to  please  her. 

But  when  she  had  told  of  the  events  of  the  preceding 
day,  her  hearer  was  much  disturbed.  She  dreaded,  not  only 
the  magic  power  of  the  "  wolf-manitto,"  which  she  scarcely 
dared  to  doubt,  but  at  once  realized  the  danger  to  which 
Agnes  was  exposed,  left  alone  there  on  the  mountain,  defence 
less,  against  the  vengeance  of  an  angry  man.  She  paused 
not  a  moment  for  reproaches,  but  started  away  from  Akzie, 
and  ran  swiftly  along  the  path  to  the  hut. 


352  AGNES. 

She  found  Agnes  safe,  and  sleeping  quietly.  Fortunately, 
the  sorcerer  believed  in  his  own  arts,  and  had  deemed  it 
would  be  more  for  his  honor  to  employ  them,  instead  of 
taking  other  means  to  punish  the  stranger.  He  was  prudent 
too,  and  waited  to  know  who  Agnes  might  be,  and  whether  it 
would  be  safe  for  him  to  kill  her.  That  he  had  been 
employed  to  cure  her,  argued  that  her  life  was  of  some  conse 
quence,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  provoke  enmity  by  meddling 
with  the  powerful  men  of  his  tribe. 

Yet  scarcely  had  Lawontica,  actuated  by  her  fears, 
wrapped  Agnes  in  blankets,  and  led  her  a  few  rods  down  the 
path  to  the  village,  when  the  creature,  walking  like  a  wolf, 
approached  from  an  opposite  direction, 'and,  throwing  down 
the  door,  looked  into  the  hut.  If  he  had  found  the  girl  there 
alone,  there  is  little  doubt  what  her  fate  would  have  been. 
But  she  never  knew  the  peril  she  escaped.  When  Akzie 
reached  her  dwelling  it  was  deserted,  cold,  and  desolate. 

It  was  midnight  before  the  two  women  arrived  at  Lawon- 
tica's  lodge.  As  they  passed  the  council-house,  a  bright  light 
shone  through  the  open  door,  and  they  caught  a  glimpse  pf 
two  warriors  dancing,  with  fantastic  gestures,  in  the  midst  of 
a  circle  of  their  comrades.  The  house  was  crowded,  many 
of  the  men  were  intoxicated,  and  the  confusion  indescribable. 

"Drunken  dogs!  —  when  they  go  home -they  beat  their 
squaw,"  Lawontica  ejaculated  in  disgust. 

Agnes  hurried  her  on.  She  felt  in  as  much  peril  then  as 
when  alone  upon  the  mountain.  As  they  came  on,  she  had 
been  told  of  the  capture  and  escape  of  her  two  friends ;  and, 


LIFE     IN     THE      LODGES.  353 

though  Lawontica  had  assured  her  she  would  be  in  no  danger, 
since  she  would  publicly  adopt  her  into  the  tribe,  the  thought 
of  living  among  men  sworn  to  be  revenged  on  the  white  race 
filled  her  with  alarm. 

When  they  reached  the  lodge,  they  saw  the  firelight  from 
within  gleaming  along  the  edge  of  the  curtain  before  the 
door.  Lawontica  pulled  it  aside  hastily,  and  beheld  her  hus 
band  sitting  by  the  fire.  She  half  expected  he  was  at  the 
council-house,  and  it  was  a  relief  to  find  him  here.  Advanc 
ing  to  his  side,  she  held  Agnes  tightly  by  the  hand ;  and  when, 
after  an  interval  of  silence,  he  deemed  it  consistent  with  dig 
nity  to  look  up,  she  said,  briefly, 

"  See.  Here  is  the  woman  the  white  men  came  for. 
Henceforth  she  is  my  sister." 

This  was  all  that  was  necessary.  The  Indian  prided 
himself  almost  as  much  as  the  Arab  does  upon  observing  the 
rites  of  hospitality.  The  stranger,  thus  adopted  into  a 
family,  was  treated  by  every  member  of  it,  and  by  all  the 
tribe,  as  if  born  of  their  own  people,  and  his  safety  was 
secured  so  long  as  no  attempt  was  made  to  escape.  Such  an 
attempt  exposed  him  to  instant  death,  if  it  proved  unsuc 
cessful,  or  he  was  afterwards  retaken. 

Late  as  was  the  hour,  Lawontica  then  prepared  supper,  and 
exerted  herself  to  do  honor  to  her  housekeeping.  She  boiled 
chestnuts,  hominy,  and  potatoes,  and  broiled  some  venison 
steaks,  sprinkling  them  with  salt  to  improve  the  flavor. 
She  had  a  small  table  of  rude  manufacture,  which  she  set 
before  Agnes,  but  Tamaque  took  his  portion  upon  the  bench 
30* 


354  AQNES. 

where  he  was  sitting.  For  dessert,  she  had  hickory  and 
beech  nuts,  and  delicate  cakes  of  maple-sugar.  The  repast 
might  have  satisfied  the  most  fastidious,  for  all  her  utensils 
were  clean  and  new,  and  her  skill  in  cooking  unimpeachable. 

To  please  her  friend,  Agnes  ate  heartily,  though  somewhat 
awed  by  Tamaque's  gloomy  silence,  and  the  freezing  hauteur 
with  which  his  wife  moved  about  the  cabin.  Only  when  she 
looked  at  or  addressed  Agnes  did  her  brow  unbend,  or  her 
voice  soften.  But  Tamaque  did  not  seem  to  notice  either  of 
them.  When  his  supper  was  finished,  he  smoked  his  pipe 
a  while,  and  then  retired  behind  the  curtain  separating  his 
bed  from  the  rest  of  the  apartment. 

Lawontica  prepared  in  another  corner  a  couch  of  mats 
covered  by  a  skin,  on  which  Agnes  was  glad  to  lie  down. 
The  blankets  she  'had  worn  wrapped  her  warmly,  and,  with  a 
sense  of  comfort  and  security  she  had  not  known  since  she 
left  the  farm-house,  she  yielded  to  the  pleasing  half-slumber 
that  stole  over  her.  But  when,  rousing  now  and  then,  during 
the  night,  she  lifted  up  her  head  to  look  around,  she  saw 
Lawontica  sitting  on  the  floor  beside  the  glimmering  fire,  her 
head  leaned  forward  on  her  knees,  silent  and  motionless  as  a 
statue. 

After  this,  some  weeks  passed  without  any  event  of  import 
ance.  Agnes'  mind  was  at  ease,  for  Lawontica  had  promised 
that  in  the  spring  she  should  be  restored  to  her  friends ;  yet 
the  time  passed  wearily.  No  one  in  the  village  insulted  or 
molested  her,  but  she  dared  not  venture  out  of  its  precincts, 
lest  she  should  meet  the  "  wolf-manitto,"  whose  image  haunted 


LIFE     IN     THE     LODGES.  355 

her.  When  the  snow  was  not  too  deep,  the  men  formed  hunt 
ing-parties,  which  were  generally  successful,  and  supplied  the 
lodges  with  meat.  At  other  times  they  sauntered  along  the 
street,  or  lounged  in  their  houses,  smoking,  and  telling  what 
they  meant  to  do  in  company  with  their  brothers,  the  English, 
as  soon  as  the  opening  spring  would  allow  them  to  go  out  to 
war. 

The  women  brought  fagots  from  the  hillside,  and  water 
from  the  brook,  and  did  all  the  work  of  housekeeping ;  but 
this,  in  their  simple  modes  of  living,  occupied  but  little  time. 
To  Agnes  their  existence  seemed  barren  and  monotonous,  and 
their  range  of  ideas  limited  in  the  extreme.  As  she  learned 
more  of  their  language  and  employments,  this  opinion  was 
confirmed.  She  saw  much  drunkenness  and  wrangling,  and 
but  little  manifestation  of  affection  in  most  of  the  families 
around.  The  children,  indeed,  were  treated  with  unlimited 
indulgence  by  both  parents ;  but,  except  in  rare  instances,  the 
husbands  were  tyrants,  and  the  women  were  slaves.  Yet  even 
here  force  of  character  asserted  its  power,  and  a  rude  sort  of 
etiquette  restrained  the  natural  selfishness  of  the  race. 

Sometimes  they  had  dances,  which  they  seemed  to  enjoy, 
although  conducted  with  a  gravity  inconsistent  with  amuse 
ment.  Both  sexes  assembled  in  the  council-house,  and  first 
the  males,  and  then  the  females,  performed  for  the  edification 
of  beholders ;  moving  lightly,  with  a  graceful,  even  step, 
forward  and  backward,  until  they  had  completed  the  circle. 
But  to  speak  with  each  other  was  hardly  allowed,  and  tc 
laugh  or  joke  was  highly  disreputable. 


856  AGNES. 

• 

Sometimes  Indian  preachers  entered  the  village  and 
harangued  the  multitude,  teaching  a  most  absurd  melange  of 
doctrines  regarding  their  conduct  in  the  present  and  their 
condition  in  the  future  state.  Those  who  were  troubled  about 
sins  already  committed  they  advised  to  rid  themselves  of 
propensities  to  evil  by  taking  violent  emetics,  or  by  whipping 
themselves  severely,  to  beat  the  bad  spirit  out.* 

Lawontica  used  to  carry  Agnes  to  these  meetings  and 
dances,  and  interpret  to  her  whatever  she  wished  to  under 
stand.  But  she  took  no  part  in  either,  and  her  face  expressed 
only  scorn,  indifference,  or  weariness.  She  attended  to  her 
household  duties  faithfully ;  her  lodge  was  the  neatest  in  the 
village ;  her  dress  and  Tamaque's  always  in  order,  and  taste 
fully  ornamented,  and  she  never  complained  of  any  labor  or 
hardships.  But  neither  reproaches  nor  caresses  from  her 
husband  could  change  her  cold,  abstracted  manner,  and  even 
Agnes  was  at  times  half  afraid  of  the  stern  woman,  who  was 
so  unlike  her  former  self. 

As  spring  advanced,  messages  to  the  chiefs  from  their 
comrades  in  other  towns  became  more  frequent,  and  they 
began  to  get  their  arms  ready,  and  prepare  for  war.  The 

*  It  is  interesting  to  observe  how  superstition  repeats  itself.  Some  of 
these  Indian  preachers  advocated  polygamy,  and  declared  "  it  was  a 
charitable  and  meritorious  thing  in  them,  as  men  living  in  intimacy  with 
God,  to  take  these  poor,  ignorant  women  and  lead  them  in  the  way  to 
God,  and  the  enjoyment  of  eternal  felicity."  See  Loskeil's  "  History  of 
the  Mission  of  the  United  Brethren,"  published  in  1794. 

Mormonism  may,  perhaps,  claim  an  earlier  date  than  has  been  allowed 
it  hitherto. 


LIFE     IN     THE    'LODGES.  357 

Indians  seldom  went  out  on  hostile  expeditions  during  winter, 
as  their  enemies  could  easily  trace  them  by  the  tracks  in  the 
snow,  and  retaliate  the  injuries  committed.  Lawontica  had 
feared  the  first  expedition  would  be  to  the  settlement  in 
Jersey  where  her  friends  lived ;  but  those  with  whom  they 
were  allied  proposed  going  in  another  direction,  and  they 
were  persuaded  to  postpone  the  gratification  of  private 
revenge  until  another  season. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE   FOREST   PEOPLE. 

IT  was  one  of  those  bright,  warm  days  of  early  spring,  that 
are  in  themselves  so  fair  we  forget  to  thank  them  for  the 
promise  they  bring  of  halycon  summer  hours.  Patches  of 
snow  still  lay  along  the  uplands  and  in  shady  hollows  where 
great  drifts  had  piled,  but  they  were  speedily  dissolving  into 
streams  that  hurried  singing  around  the  mossy  roots  of  trees, 
and  between  verdurous  banks,  to  lose  themselves  in  dells  and 
dingles,  soon  to  be  gay  with  blossoming  shrubs  and  flowers. 
The  sweet  face  of  nature,  thus  washed  after  the  torpor  and 
defilement  of  her  burial,  looked  smilingly  up  to  the  warm 
sky,  which  smiled  back  upon  her  through  masses  of  vaporous 
rose-tinted  cloud,  and  sent  messages  of  hope  and  congratula 
tion  in  fragrant  winds,  low-breathed  and  soft,  from  out  the 
amber  west.  Amid  this  wonderful  change,  this  miracle  of 
awakening  life,  Frank  Grey  paused  upon  the*  spot  where  three 
months  before  he  had  crept  painfully  across  the  frozen  stream 
to  gain  the  opposite  hill.  Now  the  jubilant  waters  rushed 
swift  and  strong  down  their  rocky  channel,  and  he  saw  it 
would  be  vain  to  attempt  a  passage  at  this  point.  He  was 


THE     FOREST     PEOPLE.  359 

foot-sore  and  weary,  and  hardly  knew  in  which  direction  to 
turn  in  order  to  effect  his  object,  and  gain  the  shelter  of  the 
cave  where  Lawson  and  his  party  had  been  hidden. 

He  had  come  from  home  alone.  Accustomed  since  child 
hood  to  track  the  mazes  of  the  forest,  he  had  no  fear  of  losing 
his  way,  or  of  being  unable  to  sustain  life.  His  only  fear  was 
in  being  discovered  by  the  Indians,  arid  one  person  could  be 
concealed  better  than  a  number.  He  knew  the  Iroquois 
warriors  would  probably  join  the  English  at  the  opening  of 
the  campaign,  and  hoped  for  an  opportunity  to  see  Lawontica, 
and  at  least  learn  Agnes'  fate.  During  the  tedious  hours 
of  illness  he  had  thought  over  and  over  again  all  the  particu 
lars  of  her  disappearance,  and  the  strange  demeanor  of  the 
Indian  girl ;  and,  however  others  might  waver,  he  was  firm  in 
the  belief  that,  in  some  unaccountable  way,  the  two  were 
connected.  A  dim  suspicion  of  Lawontica's  motives  and 
feelings  at  times  flashed  across  his  mind,  but  he  laughed  at  it 
and  put  it  away,  preferring  to  remain  in  ignorance  rather  than 
accept  such  a  solution  of  the  mystery. 

His  brave  and  chivalrous  disposition  would  have  inclined 
him  to  persevere  until  he  found  Agnes,  even  had  he  not  loved 
her;  but  now  his  whole  life  was  set  on  that  one  purpose  with  an 
intensity  which  banished  every  other  project,  and  made  every 
opposing  motive  feeble. 

Percy  was  now  engaged  in  his  military  duties  at  Morris- 
town,  and  the  aged  parents  were  once  more  left  alone  in  the 
farm-house.  Yet  they  did  not  trouble  him  with  any  prophe 
cies  of  evil  for  himself  or  them ;  and  his  mother  —  the  good 


360  AGNES. 

mother,  who  always  said  the  right  word  at  the  right  mo 
ment  —  assured  him  that  she  had  an  inward  token  his  journey 
would  be  successful.  Thus  far  he  had  met  with  no  trouble. 
Insect,  bird,  and  wild  creature,  the  hum  and  bustle  of  young, 
joyous  life,  flitting,  creeping  through  the  underbrush  and 
beneath  interwoven  boughs,  had  beguiled  his  lonely  way.  He 
had  crossed  the  rivers  and  larger  streams  upon  rafts,  which 
were  easily  constructed,  and  when  he  rested  had  not  been 
afraid  to  surround  himself  with  all  the  comforts  of  a  hunter's 
life. 

But  now  he  was  so  near  the  settlements  that  great  care 
was  required  to  prevent  discovery;  and,  concealing  himself  in 
the  midst  of  a  thick  clump  of  alders,  he  tried  to  recall  more 
distinctly  the  features  of  the  country  in  that  vicinity,  as  they 
had  been  described  to  him  again  and  again  by  Sanoso.  The 
old  woman  persisted  that  they  wronged  her  child  by  their 
suspicions,  and  was  very  anxious  to  go  with  Frank  to  the 
village,  although  too  infirm  for  so  long  a  journey.  She  missed 
Lawontica  sadly,  and  seemed  to  have  grown  suddenly  aged 
since  her  departure. 

While  Frank  remained  in  his  covert,  there  was  a  rustling 
of  the  branches  near,  and  a  deer  broke  through  the  thicket  of 
bushes  and  advanced  to  the  edge  of  the  stream.  A  moment 
he  stood,  tossing  his  antlered  head  in  wanton  strength,  and 
pawing  with  one  hoof  at  the  wet  pebbles.  Then  he  stooped 
to  drink  a  little,  standing  mid-leg  deep  in  the  stream ;  then 
turned  his  head,  his  delicate  ears  moving  with  a  quick  motion 
towards  the  faint  sound  that  reached  them,  and,  with  a  great 


THE     FOREST     PEOPLE. 

leap,  dashed  into  the  foaming  waters.  He  breasted  them 
gallantly,  swimming  where  he  lost  footing,  until  he  gained  the 
opposite  bank,  when  he  laid  his  horns  back  upon  his  neck,  and, 
sniffing  the  air,  with  nose  erect,  plunged  into  the  woods. 

In  another  moment  the  thicket  was  stirred  again,  with  a 
slower  motion,  and  the  cause  of  the  deer's  alarm  was  manifest. 
A  large  wolf,  moving  somewhat  awkwardly,  Frank  thought, 
came  to  the  margin  and  seated  himself  on  his  haunches.  His 
teeth  seemed  to  be  set  in  a  fixed  snarl,  but  he  made  no  noise 
except  a  slight  panting,  as  if  he  was  weary.  Frank  watched 
his  unexpected  visitor,  apprehensive  that  if  he  was  discovered 
the  consequences  might  be  rather  unpleasant ;  but  the  creature 
seemed  unconscious  of  his  presence.  After  resting  a  while,  he 
put  up  his  fore-paws,  squirrel-like,  and  rubbed  his  jaws. 
Instantly  his  mouth  opened,  the  lower  jaw  falling,  and  he 
scooped  the  water  in  his  paws  and  threw  it  into  his  mouth. 

Frank's  eyes  opened  wide  in  wonder.  He  thought  he  had 
discovered  something  new  in  the  natural  history  of  wolves.  He 
was  not  surprised,  after  this,  to  see  the  animal  lift  itself  on  its 
hind  legs,  look  earnestly  up  stream,  and  then,  dropping  into  a 
natural  position,  move  off  in  that  direction.  Frank  ventured 
out  far  enough  to  view  his  course,  and  was  again  puzzled  to 
see  him,  at  a  certain  point,  assume  an  erect  posture  and  ford 
the  stream. 

Pondering  upon  this  strange  event,  Frank  waited  some  time 

longer,  and,  hearing  nothing  more,  took  advantage  of  the 

knowledge  thus  gained,  and  crossed  the  brook  in  the  same 

shallow  place.     He  went  on  slowly,  stopping  every  few  mo- 

31 


362  AGNES. 

ments  to  listen  ;  but  no  sound  of  human  life  broke  the  wood 
land  silence.  When  he  reached  the  flat  rock  above  the  vil 
lage,  he  ventured  one  peep  into  the  valley.  The  men  were 
lounging  in  the  sunshine.  About  the  doors  of  the  lodges 
some  women  were  pursuing  their  household  avocations,  and 
some  were  washing  clothes  in  the  brook.  As  his  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  Lawontica's  lodge,  a  slight  figure  came  out  and  sat 
down  under  a  tree  upon  the  bank  of  the  stream,  as  if  to 
watch  the  women  at  their  work.  The  short  Indian  dress  she 
wore  gave  her  a  childish  appearance,  but  there  was  no  mis 
taking  the  bare  head  with  its  golden  curls. 

It  was  Agnes,  his  beloved,  his  lost  one  !  Frank  came  near 
shouting  aloud,  in  the  ecstasy  of  his  joy.  But  that  very  joy 
sobered  him  the  next  moment  into  prudence  and  caution.  He 
drew  back,  and  hid  himself  among  the  trees. 

Some  days  might  elapse  before  he  could  speak  with  her, 
and,  meantime,  he  must  have  a  safe  hiding-place. 

He  had  little  difficulty  in  finding  the  cave,  for,  following 
an  undefined  path,  he  was  led  directly  to  the  ledge  overhang 
ing  its  mouth.  The  vines  hanging  over  the  opening  were  now 
green  with  young  leaves,  and  formed  a  curtain  almost  imper 
vious  to  the  light. 

Descending  the  narrow  foothold,  he  parted  the  living  screen 
and  entered.  Everything  remained  as  when  he  last  saw  it  — 
the  dried  leaves  upon  the  floor,  the  belts  and  strings  of  wam 
pum  festooned  about  the  low  roof.  But  upon  the  rock  just 
within  the  curtain  lay  ears  of  corn,  a  gourd  containing  hom 
iny,  and  a  heap  of  nuts.  He  did  not  notice  them  at  first. 


THE     FOREST     PEOPLE.  363 

The  sudden  change  from  the  light  outside  made  the  darkness 
intense  until  his  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  gloom. 

While  he  hesitated  whether  he  should  remain  in  a  spot 
evidently  frequented,  if  not  inhabited,  he  heard  a  shuffling 
footstep  approach,  and  drew  back  to  the  extreme  corner. 
What  was  his  surprise  to  see,  instead  of  any  human  creature, 
the  same  gigantic  wolf  whose  motions  had  so  excited  his  curi 
osity  !  The  animal  paused  at  the  entrance,  raised  itself  up, 
and,  holding  the  vines  in  its  paws,  appeared  to  examine  them. 
Then  it  handled  the  food  upon  the  floor,  which  had  been  disar 
ranged  by  Frank's  foot,  and,  again  lifting  the  vines,  held  them 
back  so  as  to  let  the  daylight  into  the  cave,  and  looked  into 
its  recesses. 

Frank  had  watched  the  wolf  with  a  mixture  of  wonder  and 
anxiety  that  nearly  stopped  his  pulses.  In  the  narrow  space 
a  close  encounter  would  scarce  fail  to  be  deadly,  and  Agnes1 
deliverance  depended  upon  his  life. 

An  hour  seemed  to  pass  in  that  brief  interval  of  suspense, 
and  then  a  sudden  growl  convinced  him  he  was  seen.  He 
had  been  unwilling  to  shoot,  lest  the  sound  should  betray  him 
to  the  Indians,  but  now  there  was  no  alternative.  He  sprang 
up  from  his  crouching  posture,  fired,  and  then  clubbed  his  gun 
to  defend  himself  against  the  dying  struggles  of  the  powerful 
beast. 

But  through  the  din  of  the  explosion,  echoing  from  the 
rocky  walls,  came  the  cry  of  a  mortal  agony ;  and  when  the 
smoke  eddied  out  from  the  low  opening  he  saw  the  wolf's 


364  AGNES. 

skin  shot  away,  and  a  human  form,  torn  and  bloody,  lay 
quivering,  but  dead,  upon  the  floor. 

It  was  the  sorcerer,  a  more  dangerous  foe  than  any  savage 
animal.  Frank  was  utterly  bewildered  at  the  revelation,  but, 
thankful  for  his  own  escape,  drew  the  body  into  the  darkest 
corner  of  the  cavern,  and  determined  to  remain  at  least  until 
night  before  seeking  another  shelter.  He  lay  down  near  the 
entrance,  that  he  might  be  aware  of  the  approach  of  any 
intruder,  and  satisfied  his  hunger  with  the  food  he  found 
there. 

Several  hours  passed,  during  which  several  Indians  came 
along  a  path  at  no  great  distance,  laden  with  the  spoils  of  a 
hunting  expedition;  but  none  turned  towards  the  cavern. 
The  sun  had  nearly  set,  and  Frank  began  to  think  himself 
safe  for  that  day,  when  a  few  stones  rattled  down  from  above, 
as  if  some  one  walked  in  the  path  which  had  brought  him 
thither ;  and  soon  the  soft,  light  fall  of  a  moccasined  foot  was 
heard  on  the  narrow  ledge,  and  a  woman's  form  paused  before 
the  screen  of  vines. 

She  could  not  see  into  the  darkness  of  the  cave,  though  she 
looked  furtively  between  the  leaves;  but  Frank  saw  and 
recognized  her  at  once,  and  waited  to  know  what  she  would 
do. 

She  carried  in  one  hand  a  pouch  containing  some  tobacco, 
and  a  pipe  of  red  stone,  handsomely  carved  and  ornamented. 
Over  her  arm  hung  strings  of  purple  wampum.  After 
pausing  a  short  time,  she  said,  softly,  in  the  Delaware  lan 
guage, 


THE     FOREST     PEOPLE.  .  365 

"  Wetcehemend  — pentamn ! "  * 

There  was  no  reply,  and  she  stooped  down,  raised  the  end 
of  the  trailing  vines,  and,  seeing  some  one  indistinctly,  re 
peated  her  words,  and  placed  her  offering  of  tobacco  on  the 
floor.  Without  a  sound  Frank  clasped  her  hands  as  she  with 
drew  it,  and  held  her  in  that  position. 

He  could  not  see  the  startled  expression,  first  of  fear,  then 
of  surprise  and  uncertainty ;  but  he  felt  the  thrill  that  ran 
along  her  veins,  —  her  face  was  close  to  his,  with  only  the  vines 
between.  She  did  not  attempt  to  pull  her  hand  away,  as  he 
had  expected,  but,  after  remaining  quiet  a  moment,  turned  it 
slowly  in  his  so  as  to  bring  her  fingers  against  his  palm. 
Then  she  felt  along  to  the  wrist.  He  wore  an  Indian  dress, 
and  she  was  still  in  some  uncertainty ;  but  she  said,  in 
English, 

"The  wolf  manitto  no  here  —  who  this  be?" 

Frank  lifted  the  screen  so  as  to  reveal  himself,  and, 
drawing  her  within  the  cavern,  said,  at  the  same  time, 

"It  is  me,  Lawontica.  What  wonderful  chance  sent  you 
here  just  now  ?  You  are  the  very  person  I  wanted  to  see." 

She  uttered  a  faint  cry,  and  sat  down  on  the  floor,  as  if 
seized  with  a  sudden  weakness.  Then,  starting  up  again,  she 
said,  with  an  eager,  frightened  air, 

"  What  you  come  for  ?  —  you  no  safe  anywhere.  My 
people  he  ve'y  mad,  'cause  you  kill  Shamokin.  He  burn  you, 
cut  you,  kill  you  horribly,  if  he  catch  you.  Go,  hide !  — 
Sartin  you  no  safe,  they  catch  you ! " 

*  My  father,  hear  ! 
31* 


366  AGNES. 

"  I  'm  hid  safe  enough  here  —  you  won't  betray  me,"  said 
Frank,  coolly. 

"  But,  the  wolf-manitto  —  he  live  here.  Tamaque,  he  see 
him  this  morning  on  the  mountain.  Maybe  he  be  here  soon, 
then  he  go  tell.  Very  much  he  hate  white  mans." 

"  And  did  you  bring  him  presents  ?  " 

11  Yes.     Me  pay  him,  so  he  no  hurt — somebody." 

"  He  '11  hurt  nobody,  after  this.     He 's  dead." 

She  stared  at  him,  with  a  frightened  face. 

"  Yes  —  he  's  dead  —  I  killed  him,"  repeated  Frank. 

"  And  you  'live,  now  !  "  she  exclaimed,  in  astonishment. 

"  Yes  —  why  not?  He  came  in  here,  and  I  thought  it  was 
a  wolf  when  I  fired  at  him.  Was  he  a  sorcerer,  or  a  spy  ? 
He  deserved  to  be  shot  for  making  such  a  beast  of  himself." 

Lawontica  groaned,  and  turned  pale  with  terror.  She 
could  not  believe  that  this  man's  awful  and  mysterious 
power  had  ceased  with  death,  and  dreaded  the  vengeance  his 
spirit  would  take  when  it  assumed  some  other  form.  It  was 
some  time  before  Frank  could  reassure  her,  or  persuade  her 
that  the  magic  she  feared  was  a  cunning  delusion.  Not  even 
his  influence  could  have  kept  her  there,  had  she  known  the 
dead  body  was  so  near. 

When  the  first  fright  had  abated,  other  emotions  resumed 
their  sway.  Frank  asked  her  of  Agnes,  and  learned  how  she 
had  been  situated  since  her  captivity.  It  had  become  too 
dark  for  him  to  distinguish  her  features,  but  he  noticed  how 
cold  and  hard  her  voice  grew  as  she  talked,  and  with  what 
angry  abruptness  she  interrupted  the  thanks  he  gave  her  for 


THE     FOREST     PEOPLE.  367 

the  kindness  she  had  manifested.  He  had  judged  rightly 
that  thanks  were,  in  this  instance,  more  politic  than  reproaches. 

"  No  matter,"  she  said,  sharply,  shrinking  away  from  him, 
as  he  tried  to  take  her  hand ;  "no  matter  'bout  you  lying  so. 
I  know  you  no  thank  me.  You  think  me  steal  her  'way  from 
you !  Well,  maybe  so.  Now  you  come  for  her,  maybe  me 
help  you  take  her  back." 

"  I  shall  thank  you  for  that,  at  any  rate,  and  you  can't  help 
yourself,"  replied  Frank,  in  his  own  saucy  way.  What  a 
host  of  recollections  the  tone  brought  to  madden  her  ! 

She  could  control  herself  better  now  than  formerly,  and, 
pressing  back  the  tide  of  thought,  answered,  calmly, 

"  You  must  do  as  I  say.  All  'round  here  many  Indians, 
he  find  you.  Never  he  come  in  here.  Ve'y  much  he  'fraid 
the  wolf-manitto.  Only  he  bring  presents,  bring  wampum, 
maybe,  and  pay  for  '  beson.'  You  know  '  beson '  ?  " 

"No.     What  is  it ? "  said  Frank. 

"  Like  this,"  she  answered,  placing  in  his  hand  something 
she  disengaged  from  her  own  necklace  of  silver  coins. 

"  You  take  it.  Maybe  you  find  something  here,  you  make 
one  like.  When  they  come  never  he  lift  the  vines  —  he  push 
'em  out —  so  you  safe." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Frank,  "  I  take  it  you  will  have  me  personate 
this  famous  manitto.  Good  !  I  '11  do  it.  Won't  I  growl  at 
'em  ?  That 's  a  bright  thought  of  yours,  Lawontica." 

"  You  have  'urn  skin  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I '11  look  out  for  that,"  he  said,  carelessly;  " but  tell  me, 
how  long  am  I  to  stay  in  this  hole  ?  " 


368  AGNES. 

"  One  —  two,  maybe  seven  nights.  My  people  he  take  up 
the  hatchet  —  his  brother  say,  go  fight.  Then  he  go." 

"  They  're  waiting  for  orders,  are  they  ?  " 

"  Yes.  When  the  great  chief  go,  then  all  go.  Then  we 
go  to  your  house.  Walk  ve'y  slow.  Agnes,  he  weak,  pale, 
breathe  quick  when  he  walk  much.  Indian  woman,  he  doctor 
her.  Maybe  he  get  better  by-'m-by." 

"  It  was  that  cruel  journey  !  It  must  have  nearly  killed 
her.  0,  Lawontica,  how  could  you?"  said  Frank,  bitterly; 
but  she  interrupted  him. 

"  Whoosh !  never  you  say  that  any  more  —  never !  "  and 
then,  in  a  low,  tender  tone,  added,  sighing,  "  Gasinquinasbox ! '* 
You  speak  sharp  arrows !  They  strike  here." 

She  seized  his  hand  and  laid  it  against  her  heart.  Frank 
felt  the  strong  throbbings,  and  snatched  his  hand  away  in 
some  confusion.  An  awkward  silence  ensued.  It  was  the 
first,  the  last  time,  in  all  their  intercourse,  that  love  betrayed 
the  proud  woman  to  an  acknowledgment  of  the  pangs  she 
suffered. 

Before  she  had  time  to  recover  herself,  a  shout  rang  through 
the  woods,  as  if  voices  were  coming  that  way.  Lawontica 
rose  hastily  from  her  seat  on  the  rock,  and  let  fall  the  cur 
tain  between  herself  and  Frank. 

The  voices  came  nearer,  and  two  Indians  passed,  dragging 
a  large  deer  after  them.  Lawontica  remained  motionless  as  a 
etatue  until  they  were  out  of  sight.  Then,  without  raising 
the  curtain  again,  she  told  Frank  that  these  hunters  had 

*  0,  the  swift  arrows  ! 


THE     FOREST     PEOPLE.  369 

bought  a  "  beson "  of  the  wolf-manitto,  to  make  them  suc 
cessful  in  the  chase,  and  now  they  would  make  a  feast  in  the 
village,  and,  perhaps,  would  bring  him  some  portion  of  the 
game ;  but  that,  if  he  chose  to  keep  within  the  cave,  none 
would  dare  intrude,  and,  if  he  could  imitate  the  snarl  or 
howling  of  a  wolf,  he  might  avoid  speaking  to  them,  and  thus 
his  ignorance  of  their  language  would  not  be  discovered.  He 
would  not  be  likely  to  suffer  for  want  of  food,  since  it  was 
so  nearly  time  for  the  departure  of  the  war-party  that  an 
unusual  number  would  visit  the  cave,  to  make  inquiries  about 
the  weather,  or  obtain  other  information,  which  his  prophetic 
powers  were  supposed  to  enable  him  to  give.  But,  she  added, 

"  Sometime,  maybe,  me  come,  too,  tell  you  'bout  when  we 
going." 

"  And  you  '11  bring  Agnes  with  you?  "  said  Frank. 

'  No,"  she  answered,  firmly,  "  she  no  come.  You  no  see 
her  till  we  go." 

With  these  words  she  left  him  abruptly;  and,  since  he 
must  perforce  submit  to  her  dictation,  he  resigned  himself  to 
make  the  best  of  his  situation.  He  scarcely  knew  the 
emotion  of  fear,  and  the  thought  of  personal  danger  troubled 
him  very  little;  but,  to  his  impetuous  disposition,  being 
obliged  to  remain  some  days,  or  perhaps  weeks,  in  inaction, 
was  extremely  irksome. 

His  first  care  was  to  dispose  of  the  sorcerer.  He  had  no 
light,  and  was  therefore  obliged  to  defer  the  business  until 
morning.  H»  then  took  the  wolf-skin  from  the  body,  and, 
oy  way  of  precaution,  dressed  himself  in  it,  although  the 


370  AGNES. 

touch  and  smell  were  far  from  being  agreeable.  With  some 
difficulty  he  dragged  the  corpse  to  a  neighboring  thicket,  and 
left  it  until  he  found  a  hollow  in  the  valley,  to  which  he  con 
veyed  it,  and  covered  it,  as  well  as  he  was  able,  with  brush 
and  stones.  He  had  started  very  early,  but  the  labor  was  so 
great,  and  his  motions  so  slow  in  his  uncouth  dress,  that  the 
sun  was  high  before  he  returned,  and  he  met  several  hunters 
going  out  for  game.  When  he  saw  them,  he  dropped  upon 
"  all  fours,"  and  moved  his  body  as  he  had  seen  the  creature 
he  imitated  do  the  preceding  day.  If  the  deception  was  not 
perfect,  he  passed  without  much  scrutiny,  and  regained  the 
cavern,  where  he  was  glad  to  throw  aside  the  robe,  and  rest 
himself  for  the  remainder  of  the  day. 

As  had  been  foretold,  he  had  one  or  two  visitors  each  day, 
and  carried  on  quite  a  trade  in  charms,  of  which  he  found  a 
number  hanging  around  the  cave,  corresponding  to  the  one 
Lawontica  had  left  with  him.  His  ingenuity  was,  at  times, 
severely  taxed  to  understand  what  they  wanted,  or  to  avoid 
speaking  to  them  in  reply  to  their  questions.  Fortunately, 
their  reverence  for  the  supposed  magician  was  so  great  that 
whatever  he  did,  or  failed  to  do,  was  submitted  to  without 
question.  Finding  this  to  be  the  case,  he  grew  bold,  and 
even  imprudent,  uttering  all  sorts  of  gibbering  sounds  at 
times,  and,  where  his  limited  knowledge  of  their  language 
made  it  impossible  for  him  to  comprehend  them,  frightening 
away  his  visitors  by 'howls,  which  they  interpreted  to  be  of 
direful  import.  The  matter  was  so  much  like  a  boy's  play, 
that  his  natural  inclination  for  mischief  had  full  scope,  and 


THE    FOREST     PEOPLE.  371 

he  rather  courted  than  avoided  occasions  to  perform  the  part 
he  had  assumed. 

Lawontica  came  occasionally,  but  her  visits  were  brief. 
All  the  sprightliness  and  fire  of  her  girlhood  seemed  to  have 
gone  out,  and  over  the  spent  ashes  her  heart  cowered,  shiv 
ering  in  a  freezing  atmosphere  of  troubled  care. 

Three  weeks  passed  in  this  way.  Numbers  of  warriors  and 
chiefs,  from  other  villages,  collected  ai  this  rendezvous, 
together  with  vagabond  whites,  who  found  an  Indian  life  more 
to  their  taste  than  the  restraints  of  civilized  society.  Agnes 
was  alarmed  at  their  coarse  actions  and  brutal  language,  and 
kept  close  beside  Lawontica,  accompanying  her  when  she 
went  to  collect  firewood,  or  grass  and  rushes  for  bedding  for 
the  numerous  guests.  The  women  of  the  village  had  enough 
to  do  to  provide  these.  Constant  feasting  went  on  in  the 
council-house,  for  which  the  young  men  and  boys  provided 
game.  Some  of  the  chiefs,  indeed,  fasted  through  several 
days,  and  watched  their  dreams,  meantime,  with  great  inter 
est  ;  but,  when  they  had  one  which  foretold  success,  they 
gorged  themselves  to  make  up  for  past  abstinence.  The 
valley  resounded  with  the  continual  discharge  of  fire-arms,  as 
the  men  practised  shooting  at  a  mark.  Even  the  women 
shared  the  excitement,  and  wrangling  and  drunkenness 
abounded  on  every  side.  Nothing  could  be  more  unlike 
the  grave,  simple  life  Agnes  had  imagined  as  characteristic 
of  the  forest  tribes. 

One  afternoon,  the  two  women  came  down  the  hillside, 
Lawontica  bearing  upon  her  back  a  large  bundle  of  fagots, 


372  AGNES. 

tied  together,  and  sustained  in  their  place  by  a  leather  strap 
passing  across  her  forehead.  Agnes  had  a  smaller  bundle, 
which  she  carried  in  her  arms.  They  paused  when  they 
reached  the  edge  of  the  grove,  and  threw  down  their  burdens, 
to  rest.  Agnes  sat  down  beneath  a  tree,  but  her  companion 
stood,  leaning  back  her  head  against  the  straight  stem  of  a 
young  elm,  and,  with  an  expression  half  sad,  half  scornful, 
surveyed  the  sceneJ>efore  her. 

A  brisk  breeze  was  blowing.  The  beams  of  the  declining 
sun  came  up  the  valley  in  long,  slanting  rays  of  yellow  radi 
ance,  wherein  the  few  trees  scattered  here  and  there  upon  the 
level  swayed,  and  quivered,  and  bent,  like  a  bush  fixed  in  the 
bed  of  a  sudden  torrent,  overborne  by  that  flood  of  glory,  and 
dripping  light  from  all  their  leaves,  to  blot  out  their  own 
shadows.  Beating  against  this  golden  sheen,  arose  dark 
clouds  of  smoke  from  a  fire  which  had  been  kindled  in  the 
open  space  behind  the  lodges.  Near  the  fire,  upon  a  rude 
framework,  hung  the  head  of  a  deer,  the  antlers  fixed 
upright,  and  the  skin  stretched  out,  with  the  legs  appended, 
dangling  in  the  breeze.  It  was  a  "  manitto,"  to  which  the 
Indians  had  offered  sacrifices  during  their  feasts,  pretending 
to  worship  the  Great  Spirit  through  this  image.  Before  it 
some  young  men  were  dancing,  displaying  their  agility  and 
strength  of  muscle  by  the  high  leaps  and  bounds  they  made. 
A  boy  sat  on  the  ground,  beating  time  upon  a  drum  formed 
of  a  skin  stretched  over  an  old  brass  kettle.  The  noise 
mingled  with  the  shouts  of  the  dancers,  and  the  laughter  of  a 
party  who  stood  around  two  men  gambling  with  dice  of 


THE    FOKEST     PEOPLE.  373 

painted  stones.  Children  were  running  about  the  street,  and 
women  were  bringing  wood  for  the  evening  fire. 

The  Indian  girl  saw  it  all,  but  Agnes  had  fallen  into  a 
revery,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground.  She  was  startled 
by  Lawontica's  voice,  speaking  in  a  tone  of  impatience  and 
regret. 

"  White  man  he  know  more  than  Indian.  Ve'y  much  he 
better,  'cause  he  know  more  —  more  he  know,  more  he  better. 
But,  Indian  —  seems  if  more  he  know,  more  he  devil ! 
Agnes,  me  sick !  Me  live  no  more  with  my  own  peoples. 
Once  me  live  so  long  with  white  mans,  me  forget  'bout 
Indians.  Me  t'ink  all  ve'y  good.  Now  me  know  better. 
Indian,  poor  fool !  Me  no  stay  here  any  more." 

"  But,  your  husband  —  Tamaque  —  what  will  he  do  ?  I 
know  you  don't  love  him,  but  will  he  let  you  go  ?  " 

Lawontica  laughed,  bitterly.  "He  no  help  himself!  He 
no  my  friend.  What  he  care?  Plenty  more  squaw  'bout 
here." 

Agnes  was  silent.  Tamaque,  tired  of  his  wife's  coldness* 
had,  indeed,  seemed  lately  to  care  as  little  for  her  as  she  did 
for  him.  Returning  to  the  thought  always  uppermost  in  her 
own  breast,  Agnes  asked, 

"  When  shall  we  go,  Lawontica  ?  You  promised  after  the 
planting  month  you  would  take  me ;  and  now,  see,  the  green 
blade  is  springing  up  in  the  corn-field,  and  yet  you  say 
'  wait.'  I  cannot  wait  much  longer.  You  don't  know  how 
important  a  few  days  or  weeks  may  be,  and  I  am  strong 
32 


374  AGNES. 

enough  now.  I  have  brought  all  this  wood  without  being 
tired.  Tell  me  now  when  may  I  go  ?  " 

"How  will  she  find  her  way?  There  are  bears  in  the 
woods,"  said  Lawontica,  with  a  mocking  laugh. 

"  You  will  go  with  me  —  you  said  you  would." 

It  was  impossible  to  resist  that  confiding  tone,  .and  those 
earnest,  beseeching  eyes.  The  dark  face  grew  calm,  and  even 
loving  in  its  expression.  She  drew  nearer,  and,  as  she  twined 
Agnes'  curls  around  her  fingers,  said,  softly, 

"  Ahkie !  Snow-bird !  No  you  feel  somebody  near  you, 
lately  ?  " 

"Near  me?  —  no,"  answered  Agnes,  looking  around,  in  a 
little  fear.  Lawontica  laughed  at  her  mistake. 

"  Ah,  then  you  no  love  him,"  she  said,  and  proceeded  to 
tell  Agnes  that  Frank  was  in  the  vicinity,  waiting  for  the 
war-feast  to  be  over,  and  the  warriors  gone,  and  then  they 
would  set  out  together  on  their  journey  towards  home.  This 
arrangement  was  necessary,  since,  otherwise,  they  might  be 
prevented  from  going,  or  pursued  if  they  should  steal  away, 
and  Agnes  had  only  strength  to  go,  slowly  and  quietly,  a  few 
miles  each  day. 

"  And  you  will  go  with  me? "  Agnes  asked,  when  all  was 
explained. 

"  Do  you  want  me  ? "  asked  Lawontica,  in  return,  giving 
her  a  searching  look. 

"  0,  yes,  indeed  —  Lawontica,  you  know  what  I  told  you 
—  you  must  come  with  me,"  said  Agnes,  and  a  sudden  blush 
lit  her  pallid  face  with  new  beauty. 


THE    FOREST     PEOPLE.  375 

"  Me  go  too,  then,"  replied  her  companion,  in  a  grave  but 
decided  tone,  and,  resuming  her  burden,  she  went  on  to  the 
village.  Agnes  followed  close  behind  her.  One  or  two 
white  men  in  the  crowd  were  bent  upon  teasing  her ;  but  she 
escaped  from  their  profane  jests,  and  gained  the  shelter  of 
Tamaque's  lodge,  where  they  did  not  find  it  politic  to  intrude 
uninvited. 

The  war-feast  was  to  be  held  that  evening,  and  the  ensuing 
morning  the  parties  set  off  to  join  their  comrades  at  Onon- 
dagua.  The  near  prospect  of  deliverance  from  her  tedious 
captivity,  and  gratitude  for  the  friend  who  had  sought  her  at 
such  repeated  peril  of  his  life,  caused  her  heart  to  throb  with 
strong  emotion.  He  was  so  noble,  so  brave!  O,  if  she 
could  but  have  loved  him  ! 

She  remained  a  long  time  in  the  quiet  of  the  lodge,  the 
door  closed,  the  noise  outside  reaching  her  ear  without  dis 
turbing  the  current  of  thought  flowing  through  her  mind  ; 
flowing  idly,  unheeded,  as  a  stream  that  bears  flowers  or 
thorn-branches  past  the  gaze  of  a  traveller  sitting  on  its 
banks,  and  longing  to  be  across  it  on  the  opposite  shore. 
Thus  images  of  the  past  floated  through  her  revery,  but  her 
thoughts  took  cognizance  only  of  the  anxiety  of  the  present, 
and  the  uncertainty  of  the  future.  Suddenly  the  door  opened, 
and  Tamaque  entered.  He  was  half  intoxicated,  and  reeled 
about  the  cabin,  not  seeming  to  notice  her. 

He  wore  an  old  pair  of  trousers,  over  which  was  pinned, 
around  the  waist,  a  blanket  reaching  below  his  knees,  pro 
fusely  ornamented  with  wampum,  feathers,  and  fox-tails. 


376  AGNES. 

His  moccasins  and  leggins  were  worked  to  correspond  with 
the  blanket.  The  upper  part  of  his  body  and  his  head  were 
entirely  naked,  and  painted  one  half  black  and  the  other  red. 
It  was  almost  impossible  to  recognize  him  under  this  gro 
tesque  mask,  and  Agnes  stole  away,  half  terrified,  leaving 
him  to  readjust  his  savage  finery. 

He  soon  appeared  again,  having  adorned  his  head  with  a 
new  tuft  of  eagle-feathers,  and  drawn  a  circle  of  white  paint 
around  each  eye.  He  saw  Agnes  crouching  beside  Lawontica 
in  the  shadow  of  the  hut,  and  approached  her,  brandishing 
his  hatchet,  as  if  he  intended  at  least  to  frighten  her.  But 
Lawontica  arose  and  stood  between  them,  waving  him  off 
with  an  imperious  gesture,  and  saying,  scornfully, 

"  Go  away  —  go  dance  -—  go  eat  your  brothers !  *  Tamaque 
is  a  great  brave  —  he  likes  to  take  a  woman's  scalp." 

She  had  spoken  in  their  native  tongue,  and  so  rapidly  that 
the  sneering  words  were  but  half  comprehended,  or  the 
hatchet  might  have  descended  on  her  own  head.  He 
answered,  in  broken  English,  for  Agnes'  benefit, 

"  Me  no  want  'um.  Maybe  me  bring  back  twenty  just 
like  um.  You  see  !  " 

Then,  sounding  the  war-whoop,  he  sprang  away  to  join  the 
.revellers. 

The  saturnalia  had  now  reached  its  height.  A  hog  and 
several  dogs  had  been  killed,  and  the  raw  flesh  devoured,  the 
warriors  holding  up  the  dripping  pieces,  and  shouting  to  each 

*  An  allusion  to  the  hogs  and  dogs,  usually  sacrificed  at  a  war-feast. 
Dog-flesh  was  supposed  to  inspire  them  with  valor. 


THE    JOBEST     PEOPLE.  377 

other,  "Thus  will  I  chew  and  eat  my  enemies."  Others 
seized  the  heads  and  bones,  swung  them  in  the  air,  with  loud 
yells,  and  thrust  them  into  the  faces  of  the  circle  of  specta 
tors  surrounding  the  group,  vaunting  the  feats  of  valor  they 
intended  to  perform. 

Near  the  frame  on  which  the  deer's  head  was  fixed  they 
had  erected  a  pole,  painted  a  brilliant  red,  and  hung  with 
scalps.  Around  it  a  space  was  left  a  few  yards  in  diameter. 
Into  this  the  head  chief  stepped,  and  commenced  reciting 
hia  own  warlike  deeds,  and  those  of  his  ancestors.  His 
tones  were  shrill  and  monotonous,  and  at  each  falling 
cadence,  as  he  closed  his  long  sentences,  he  brandished  his 
tomahawk,  and  cut  a  deep  gash  in  the  pole.  One  after 
another  followed  him,  while  the  drinking,  shouting,  and 
whooping,  was  going  on  in  the  crowd  outside  the  circle. 
After  several  hours  consumed  in  this  way,  the  warriors  all 
joined  in  dancing  around  the  pole,  yelling,  gesticulating 
furiously,  as  if  possessed  by  the  extremity  of  rage,  threat 
ening  to  cut  and  stab  each  other,  bending  their  bodies  in  the 
most  uncouth  postures,  and  appearing,  as  the  lurid  firelight 
shone  over  their  paint  and  feathers,  and  the  hideous  din  of 
fife  and  drum  mingled  with  their  discordant  voices,  like  a 
band  of  demons  just  let  loose  from  the  nether  world. 

Agnes  crouched  by  the  side  of  her  friend,  not  daring  to 
remain  in  the  hut  alone,  and  unable  to  turn  her  eyes  from  the 
horrible  fascination  of  the  scene  before  her.  Lawontica  said 
but  little,  and  when  she  did  speak  her  words  were  full  of 
bitterness.  Her  coldness  for  Tamaque  had  changed  into  a 
32* 


378  AGNES. 

hate  so  deep,  that  she  was  glad  to  see  him  thus  brutalize  him« 
self,  and  justify  her  anger  and  her  scorn.  So  the  long  night 
wore  away. 

As  morning  approached,  Puschiis  suddenly  broke  from  the 
throng,  and  commenced  marching  towards  the  other  end 
of  the  valley,  where  a  path  led  off  into  the  woods  towards 
the  north.  His  chiefs  followed  in  single  file,  and  when 
the  village  was  left  behind  they  paused,  fired  their  guns 
into  the  air,  and  began  the  war-song,  marching  again  as 
they  sung.  This  was  the  signal  of  their  final  departure. 
They  had  dressed  and  armed  themselves  completely  for  the 
expedition  the  preceding  evening,  and  now  set  out,  without 
taking  any  rest,  after  the  excessive  exercise  of  the  war-dance. 

The  women  of  the  village  ran  on  in  disorderly  groups, 
carrying  the  bags  of  "  citamon,"  a  mixture  of  pounded  Indian 
corn  and  maple-sugar,  which  was  the  only  food  they  took  in 
:their  war-parties,  the  forest  supplying  them  with  meat.  The 
young  men  only  waited  to  gather  the  bones  left  from  the  feast 
and  throw  them  into  the  fire,  that  the  dogs  might  not  get 
them. 

As  Agnes  saw  this  abrupt  termination  of  the  revels,  she 
asked,  with  surprise, 

"  Do  the  women  go  to  war,  too?  " 

"  They  go  a  little  way.  Then,  after  one  night,  they  come 
back.  I  must  go,  too,"  said  Lawontica,  rising  and  taking  up 
the  citamon  she  had  prepared  for  her  husband. 

"  You  ?  —  0,  Lawontica !  and  leave  me  alone  ?  "  exclaimed 
Agnes,  seizing  her  hand. 


THE     FOREST     PEOPLE.  379 

"  You  no  be  frightened,  snow-bird ! "  said  the  Indian 
woman,  in  a  softer  tone,  as  she  gazed  upon  that  uplifted 
face.  "  Nobody  be  left  here  to  hurt  you  —  only  some  old 
squaw  and  some  sick.  Rest  all  gone.  Me  go.  Me  see 
Tamaque  once  more.  When  he  come  back  he  no  find  me 
here.  Maybe  he  angly  then.  Think  white  mans  cally  me 
off —  go  kill  somebody,  maybe.  Now  me  see  him.  Me  tell 
him  'bout  it." 

"  What  will  you  tell  him  ?  " 

"  Me  say,  When  me  young  girl,  you  say,  me  be  your 
squaw  never  you  dlink  lum,  'cause  it  steal  away  your  think ; 
never  you  beat  me,  never  you  speak  bad  word ;  always  you 
ve'y  kind,  'cause  you  love  me  so  much.  Now  you  dlink,  one, 
two,  five  time ;  now  you  speak  me  bad,  you  no  care  for  me. 
I  no  live  with  you.  You  get  'nother  squaw.  I  go  'way,  and 
you  no  find  me." 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  asked  Agnes.  "  He  can  surely 
find  you,  if  you  live  with  us." 

Lawontica  heaved  a  deep  breath,  and  looked  up  to  the 
stars,  now  slowly  fading  in  the  gray  of  dawn. 

"  The  Great  Spirit  is  good,"  she  said.  "  He  will  take  care 
of  his  child.  When  she  lives  again  he  will  make  her  a  bird, 
maybe,  that  shet  may  have  a  glad  heart,  and  sing  all  day." 

Agnes  but  half  understood  the  meaning  of  these  words. 

"  God  will  take  care  of  us  both,  I  hope,"  she  said,  doubt 
fully,  adding,  "but  now,  just  now,  Lawontica,  what  do  you 
mean  to  do  ?  Will  he  not  guess  where  you  are  going,  and 
follow  us  ?  " 


380  AGNES. 

"  Tamaque  is  a  great  brave.  Will  he  leave  the  war-trail 
to  look  after  two  women?  No,  Agnes.  Me  tell  him  how 
me  go  'way  not  with  white  man.  White  man,  Indian,  all 
one  bad  to  Lawontica  !  " 

She  sighed  as  she  spoke,  and,  bidding  Agnes  have  no  fear 
of  harm,  advised  her  to  go  into  the  lodge  and  sleep  all  day, 
that  she  might  be  ready  for  the  journey  they  were  to  com 
mence  on  the  morrow.  Then,  taking  her  bag  of  food,  she 
went  after  the  crowd,  who  were  now  out  of  sight,  although 
the  notes  of  the  war-song  could  still  be  heard. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

THE   SNOW-BIKD    FLIES   HOME. 

IN  his  cave  upon  the  mountain  Frank  Grey  heard  the 
mingled  noises  of  the  war-dance,  and,  though  the  feasting  of 
the  preceding  week,  described  to  him  by  Lawontica  in  her 
visits,  had  given  him  some  idea  of  what  Indian  ceremonies 
might  be,  he  could  hardly  tell  the  meaning  of  the  increased 
din,  or  of  the  unusual  silence  that  followed  when  the  war- 
party  had  withdrawn. 

Lawontica  had  given  him  a  strict  charge  not  to  venture  out 
of  the  cave  in  the  daytime.  His  disguise  might  suffice  in  the 
dim  light  in  which  he  was  seen  by  those  who  sought  him 
there ;  but  his  imitations  of  the  real  wolf-manitto  must  neces 
sarily  be  imperfect,  and,  the  change  once  suspected,  his  life 
was  not  safe  a  moment.  In  spite  of  this,  he  could  not  at  day 
break  leave  the  overhanging  shelf  of  rock  from  whence  he 
had  looked  down  upon  the  village  through  the  last  hours  of 
night.  By  the  firelight  he  could  see  the  savage  dancers,  and 
all  others  who  came  and  went  within  the  circle  of  its  radiance, 
but  into  the  deep  shadows  around  his  glance  could  not  pene 
trate.  When  the  warriors  marched  away  he  felt  a  moment- 


382  A  Q  N  E  8  . 

ary  relief;  but  his  surprise  at  seeing  the  women  follow  after 
was  mingled  with  a  slight  fear  that  Lawontica  might  again 
be  false,  and  place  Agnes  out  of  his  reach.  Ensconced  behind 
the  large  rocks  upon  the  verge  of  the  precipice,  he  waited 
until  daylight  showed  him  the  village  deserted  of  its  inhabit 
ants.  The  few  who  remained,  and  Agnes  among  the  rest, 
had  retired  to  obtain  the  repose  which  the  noise  of  the  war- 
feast  had  rendered  impossible  during  the  night.  No  smoke 
ascended  from  the  lodges,  and  no  one  was  seen  in  the  streets 
for  several  hours. 

In  his  impatience  he  would  at  once  have  descended  to  the 
lodges;  but  the  stream,  as  it  skirted  the  base  of  the  mountain, 
was  too  deep  for  fording,  and  he  knew  it  would  be  impossible 
to  swim  in  the  uncomfortable  constraint  of  his  wolf-skin  robe. 
There  was  a  ford,  lower  down,  where  the  valley  widened ;  but 
of  this  he  was  ignorant,  and  anxiety  had  nearly  overcome  the 
last  reserves  of  prudence,  and  determined  him  to  throw  off  his 
disguise,  swim  the  stream,  and  ascertain  if  Agnes  were  really 
there,  when,  as  he  reached  the  bank,  he  spied  a  canoe  snugly 
moored  among  some  rushes.  To  enter  it  and  paddle  to  the 
other  side  was  the  work  of  but  a  few  moments.  Then,  assum 
ing  the  most  wolfish  gait  he  could  remember,  he  passed  slowly 
along  towards  the  lodge. 

A  few  children  playing  in  the  sand,  and  some  women  lying 
in  the  doors  of  their  wigwams,  saw  the  dreaded  creature 
immediately,  and  looked  with  a  trembling  curiosity  to  know 
what  the  unwonted  visit  might  portend.  Thus  unmolested 
he  reached  Lawontica's  lodge.  Agnes  had  just  risen  from  her 


THE     SNOW-BIBD    FLIES     HOME.  383 

couch  after  a  prolonged  slumber,  and  when  the  well-remem 
bered  wolf's  head  looked  in  the  open  doorway,  she  could  not 
repress  a  scream  of  terror.  She  knew  it  was  not  the  thing 
she  feared,  but  the  old  recollection  was  too  powerful  to  be 
overcome  at  once  by  a  later  knowledge.  The  women,  who  had 
cautiously  followed,  at  a  little  distance,  heard  her  scream,  and 
shrank  back  in  alarm. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  little  Red  Riding-Hood,  I  won't  eat  you 
up  ;  for  I  an't  your  grandmother,  though  I  am  a  wolf,"  said 
Frank,  in  his  own  cheery  voice. 

It  sounded  strangely  through  those  savage  jaws.  Agnes 
laughed,  involuntarily,  but  at  the  same  time  she  exclaimed, 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  don't  talk  English !  They  will  recog 
nize  it,  though  they  don't  understand  it,  and  suspect  who  you 
are.  Why  did  you  come  ?  You  are  in  danger  here." 

"  Not  if  you  will  keep  on  wringing  your  hands,  and  looking 
so  much  as  if  you  were  scared  out  of  your  senses.  See  how 
frightened  those  women  look,  merely  to  see  you." 

As  he  spoke,  he  turned  his  head  slowly,  gnashing  his  wolf- 
jaws  at  the  squaws  behind  him.  Then,  rising  on  his  feet,  he 
pawed  the  air  a  few  moments,  and  then  curled  himself  down 
inside  the  door. 

"  That  was  well  done,"  he  continued,  quite  enjoying  the  fun 
of  his  novel  situation.  "  It  served  a  double  purpose, — to  let 
my  brains  run  down  into  my  heels  once  more,  and  keep  those 
beauties  from  coming  near  enough  to  hear  us  talk.  You  seem 
to  be  quite  comfortable  here,  Agnea.  Upon  my  word,  this  is 
a  very  decent  house." 


384  AGNES. 

"  How  can  you  run  on  so  ?  Suppose  they  should  hear  you, 
—  they  would  know  you  wasn't  an  Indian,"  said  Agnes, 
anxiously. 

"  Why  so  ?  Don't  wolves  talk  English  ?  If  you  '11  tell  me 
the  wolf  for  <  I  'm  thankful  to  see  you  once  more,  and  to  find 
you  safe  and  well,'  I  '11  say  it  over  and  over  again  to  you, 
Agnes.  If  you  don't,  you  must  let  me  say  it  in  my  native 
tongue Here,  you ! " 

He  interrupted  himself  to  make  a  little  sortie  at  the  women 
and  children  gathering  nearer,  and  when  his  howls  and  ges 
tures  had  driven  them  back,  exclaimed, 

"There,  that  was  well  done!  Don't  you  think  I  must 
have  been  a  wolf  in  some  former  state  of  existence  ?  " 

"I'm sorry  not  to  be  complimentary,  but  you  don't  howl  in 
the  least  like  a  wolf,"  replied  Agnes,  laughing  nervously. 
"  I  Ve  listened  to  them  many  a  time  this  winter,  in  stormy 
nights.  0,  it  is  awful  to  hear  them  !  " 

"  Well,  if  I  an't  perfect,  it  is  the  best  I  can  do,  and  '  angels 
can  no  more,'  as  Percy  says,  —  I  doubt  if  they  could  hardly 
so  much  !  Where  has  Lawontica  gone  ?  I  thought  she  had 
carried  you  off  again,  and  that  was  the  reason  I  ventured 
here.  Not  much  of  a  venture,  after  all,  with  only  these  few 
old  women  to  see  me." 

"  But  the  young  men  may  return  at  any  time,  and  they 
would  not  be  so  easily  deceived.  Indeed,  Frank,  you  are 
not  safe,"  said  Agnes,  earnestly. 

"  I  don't  care  if  I  an't.  I  'm  happy,  and  that  'a  better. 
Sit  here,  where  that  old  squaw  peeking  in  the  window  oan't 


THE     SNOW-BIKD     FLIES     HOME.  385 

gee  you  so  plainly,  and  wring  your  hands  once  in  a  while,  and 
look  frightened.  Then  we  're  safe  enough.  Now  tell  me 
about  yourself.  Have  you  been  here  all  winter  ?  Somehow, 
I  could  never  make  Lawontica  talk  about  you." 

"  Here  she  comes,  now,  sooner  than  she  said,"  cried  Agnes, 
and  in  another  moment  Lawontica  came  to  the  lodge  with  a 
slow  and  weary  step. 

She  had  overtaken  the  groups  who  followed  the  war 
riors,  and  gone  with  them  until,  after  a  few  miles,  they 
halted  to  rest.  This  was  their  custom  when  setting  out  on  a 
long  journey.  After  their  fatigue  was  abated,  the  feasting 
and  dancing  of  the  preceding  night  were  renewed,  and  con 
tinued  to  a  late  hour.  Then  those  who  accompanied  them 
returned  home,  and  the  next  morning  the  war-party  went 
forward  to  their  place  of  destination.  Lawontica  had  taken 
advantage  of  this  interval  of  quiet  to  have  the  interview  she 
wished  with  Tamaque.  The  moment  was  ill-chosen,  if  she  had 
any  lingering  wish  to  touch  his  heart.  Weary  and  half 
intoxicated,  he  listened  in  sulky  indifference,  and  turned  his 
back  upon  her  when  she  had  done.  She  waited  for  no  further 
repulse,  but  left  him,  and  retraced  her  steps  to  the  village. 
As  she  approached  the  lodge,  her  quick  eye  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  wolf-skin,  and  at  once  divined  the  truth. 

She  paused  at  the  door  with  well-feigned  reverence,  and, 
taking  from  her  neck  a  string  of  wampum,  laid  it  on  the 
ground.  Frank  clawed  it  up,  as  he  supposed  he  was  expected 
to  do.  The  old  women  looking  on  began  to  make  remarks 
that  showed  their  suspicions  were  not  yet  aroused,  and  Lawon- 


386  AGNES. 

tica,  with  ready  wit,  devised  a  plan  to  profit  by  their  igno 
rance  and  superstition. 

Approaching  nearer,  and  speaking  low,  she  said, 

"  S'pose  'urn  you  wolf-manitto,  you  one  great  man  —  ve'y 
strong.  S'pose  you  look  at  me,  I  no  look  away.  S'pose  you 
say  me  go  with  you,  then  me  go.  Me  have  no  power  not  to 
—  nobody  able  to  hold  me,  'cause  your  eye  so  strong.  Now 
this  the  best  time  to  go.  To-night  the  boys  come  home,  and 
the  young  men.  Maybe  they  say  me  no  go.  S'pose  'um  you 
go  out  and  we  go  after  now." 

Frank  caught  eagerly  at  the  idea.  A  few  more  words 
perfected  the  plan.  She  busied  herself  in  preparing  food, 
part  of  which  she  laid  before  her  guest,  who  ate  it  in  the 
presence  of  spectators  with  all  the  gravity  becoming  a  wolf- 
manitto,  and  as  much  of  comfort  as  was  consistent  with  that 
character.  The  two  women  then  ate  their  supper,  and  before 
they  had  finished  the  wolf-manitto  suddenly  arose,  pawed  the 
air,  and  howled  direfully.  Lawontica  acted  her  part  well, 
and  Agnes  went  beside  her,  too  really  frightened,  lest  they 
should  be  stopped  or  suspected,  to  need  to  put  on  the  show  of 
fear.  •  Frank  walked  before,  turning  occasionally,  raising 
himself  up,  howling  and  gesticulating  towards  them ;  and  they 
followed  with  slow,  reluctant  steps,  as  if  drawn  on  by  some 
power  superior  to  their  own  will.  Thus  they  gained  the 
canoe,  and  were  paddled  across  the  stream.  A  few  steps  on 
the  opposite  bank  carried  them  within  the  shelter  of  the 
trees. 

The  frightened  women  who  looked  on  thought  them  under 


THE     SNOW-BIKD     FLIES     HOME.  387 

the  spell  of  the  sorcerer,  and  dared  not  interfere.  Their 
abrupt  departure,  without  the  slightest  apparent  preparation, 
forbade  the  idea  of  a  voluntary  act ;  and,  as  they  were  never 
seen  again,  their  fate  passed  into  a  tradition.  To  the  latest 
generations  of  Delawares,  stories  were  told  of  the  powerful 
sorcerer  who  lived  among  the  hills,  who  could  assume  any 
form  he  chose,  and  had  power  to  compel  any  one  to  follow 
him  by  merely  casting  upon  them  a  glance  of  his  terrible 
eyes.  And  many  a  moralizing  old  Indian,  crooning  out  his 
tales  by  the  lodge-fire  on  a  winter  night,  has  related  the 
history  of  the  haughty  maiden,  who,  because  she  was  too 
proud  to  fulfil  the  lowly  duties  of  her  sex,  was  thus  charmed 
away  and  miserably  destroyed. 

Lawontica  might  have  treated  her  captive  with  any  degree 
of  indulgence,  so  long  as  she  retained  her  among  the  tribe  ; 
but,  knowing  she  would  meet  with  opposition,  if  now,  in  time 
of  war,  she  attempted  to  restore  Agnes  to  her  friends,  she  had 
intended  to  leave  the  village  simply  as  if  going  out  for  a  brief 
absence.  Thus  she  had  previously  conveyed  to  the  cave  some 
bags  of  citamon,  and  a  few  articles  indispensable  for  the  com 
fort  of  their  journey. 

When  they  reached  the  cavern,  these  were  hastily  made 
into  two  bundles,  Frank  taking  one,  and  Lawoutica  the  other. 
The  wolf-skin  robe  he  had  gladly  thrown  off  on  reaching  the 
shelter  of  the  woods,  and,  having  secreted  it  in  a  crevice  of 
the  rocks,  he  shouldered  his  gun  and  led  the  way  along  the 
path  by  which  he  had  come  from  the  white  settlements. 

They  walked  fast  until  it  was  too  dark  to  see  their  way, 


388  AQNES. 

and  arose  early  the  next  morning ;  but,  as  the  day  advanced, 
the  fear  of  pursuit  gradually  left  them,  and  they  went  on  more 
slowly,  and  encamped  early  to  rest.  After  this  the  journey 
was  more  like  a  pleasure  excursion  than  like  the  flight  of 
prisoners.  The  war  had  taken  all  the  hunters  and  warriors 
in  another  direction,  and  the  primeval  forest  through  which 
their  path  lay  was  as  free  from  danger  as  if  no  turbulent 
human  life  had  ever  disturbed  the  quiet  of  its  glades. 

The  weather  was  delightful.  It  was  the  last  week  in  May, 
and  the  queen  of  months  had  been  profuse  in  adorning  her  fair 
•domain,  the  earth.  Blossoming  shrubs  leaned  out  from  the 
thickets  towards  the  open  sunlit  spots,  and  the  dark  banks  of 
moss  and  the  leaf-strewn  ground  were  starred  with  flowers. 
Delicate  vines  and  pale-green  lichens  covered  the  broken 
stumps  and  fallen  trees,  and  through  the  full-leaved  branches 
above  came  down  a  clear,  soft  light,  that  was  neither  sunshine 
nor  shadow,  but  seemed  woven  of  both. 

The  woods  were  full  of  fragrance  and  sound.  Morning  and 
evening  the  birds  led  forth  their  young  upon  the  branches, 
singing  and  twittering  in  an  ecstasy  of  parental  joy.  Squir 
rels  and  hares  started  up  from  the  turf,  or  ran  across  the 
path,  with  broods  of  tiny  blind  creatures  following,  to  be 
pushed  or  pulled  over  stump  and  rock,  and  hidden  safely 
from  the  intruding  footsteps.  Sometimes  a  deer  broke  out  of 
the  covert,  and  stood  staring  at  them  an  instant  with  his  large 
brown  eyes,  before  he  dashed  away.  Now  and  then  a  fox 
came  in  sight ;  or  a  rustling  of  the  bushes,  and  some  strange 
odor,  startled  them  with  the  fear  of  more  savage  animals ; 


THE     SNOW-BIRD     FLIES     HOME.  389 

but  no  accident  occurred  to  mar  their  pleasure.  The  springs 
gushing  everywhere  supplied  them  with  water,  the  citamon- 
bags  furnished  bread,  and  Frank's  gun  provided  more  sub 
stantial  food.  When  they  were  weary  they  stopped  to  rest, 
and  at  evening  a  fire  was  kindled,  branches  were  cut  down 
for  beds,  and  a  rude  hut  constructed,  in  which  the  women 
slept,  while  Frank,  wrapped  in.  his  blanket,  lay  beside  the  fire 
and  kept  it  burning  until  morning. 

Frank's  elastic  spirits,  rebounding  from  the  depression  they 
had  endured,  found  occasion  for  merriment  in  all  the  various 
incidents  of  their  journey ;  and,  as  Agnes  had  much  to  ask, 
and  he  to  tell,  of  what  had  transpired  during  her  absence, 
there  was  no  lack  of  conversation.  Yet  the  silent  one  of  the 
party,  Lawontica,  who  watched  them  both  with  eyes  sharp 
ened  by  love  and  sorrow,  read  many  a  thought  which  was 
unspoken,  many  a  deep  feeling  that  found  utterance  only  in 
trifling  words. 

One  evening  they  built  their  fire  upon  the  shore  of  a  pond, 
about  twenty  miles  from  Morristown.  The  next  day  would 
bring  them  to  the  close  of  their  journey,  and  the  knowledge, 
bringing  with  it  thoughts  and  purposes  which  had  been  for  a 
while  laid  aside,  casting  upon  them  again  the  burden  of  social 
life,  and  ending  these  careless,  pleasant  hours,  made  them 
unusually  quiet. 

Their  encampment  was  upon  a  little  mound,  two  or  three 

rods  from  the  shore  of  the  pond.     Behind  them  a  tangled 

heap  of  fallen  trees,  through  which  young  trees,  in  their  turn, 

were  growing,  formed  a  barricade  against  the  forest,  while 

33* 


390  AGNES. 

around  large  elms  and  maples  stood  in  a  circle.  Several  light 
showers  had  fallen  during  the  afternoon,  and  the  night  was 
misty  and  intensely  dark.  A  fire  kindled  in  the  centre  of 
the  little  opening  had  no  power  to  pierce  or  illumine  the 
shadows  that  seemed  to  stand  solid  and  palpable,  like  a  wall, 
around.  From  it  the  trunks  of  the  trees  came  out  in  alto 
relievo,  and  the  arching  branches  and  white  under-surfaces  of 
the  leaves,  revealed  as  one  looked  upward,  were  like  rafters 
and  corbels  richly  carved  to  support  a  roof  of  ebony. 

Frank,  who  came  up  from  the  shore,  which  he  had  been 
pacing  in  a  restless  mood,  paused  before  he  entered  the  lighted 
circle,  that  he  might  gaze  unreproved  upon  the  face  he  loved. 
Agnes,  leaning  upon  her  elbow,  lay  half  within  and  half  with 
out  the  little  hut  of  saplings  where  their  bed  had  been  made. 
The  ruddy  gleam,  shining  over  her,  tinged  her  pale  cheek,  and 
turned  her  golden  hair  to  brown.  Never  before  or  after  did 
she  look  to  him  so  beautiful ;  never  did  his  impetuous  heart  so 
yearn  for  the  fulfilment  of  hopes  it  had  dared  to  cherish. 

While  he  looked,  Lawontica,  who  sat  beside  the  fire,  sud 
denly  lifted  her  head,  and,  after  a  scrutinizing  glance  around, 
as  if  to  assure  herself  they  were  alone,  said, 

"  Snow-bird,  you  know  what  you  tell  me,  that  night  I  take 
you  from  old  Akzie  ?  " 

Agnes  started,  and  half  arose  from  her  reclining  posture. 

"  Hush !  —  What  of  it  ?  "  she  asked,  breathlessly. 

"  You  tell  it  me  one  time  after ;  was  it  true  ?  " 

Agnes  nodded  assent. 

"Did  you  tell  Flank?" 


THE     SNOW-BIRD     FLIES     HOME.  391 

"Tell  him?  — No  I     Why?" 

"  Maybe  you  tell  him,  he  no  look  at  you  so  much,  he  no 
ache  so  bad  here."  She  beat  her  hands  against  her  bosom, 
as  she  spoke,  and  the  gesture  gave  power  to  her  words. 

Agnes  colored  violently,  and  then  gre#  pale  as  death. 

"  There  was  a  reason,"  she  said,  hesitatingly.  "  My  whole 
happiness,  my  whole  hope,  might  depend  upon  being  able  to 
say  I  had  kept  this  secret  till  the  time  came  when  another 
might  reveal  it ;  or,  if  that  could  never  be,  the  life  or  death 
of  another  might  depend  upon  this  secret  dying  with  me 
Lawontica,  do  you  think  I  ought  to.  tell  him  ?  " 

The  Indian  woman  regarded  her  scornfully. 

"  Then  you  no  care,  s'pose  'um  he  feel  bad  ?  " 

Agnes  was  silent  a  moment,  and  her  white  face  quivered 
with  the  rush  of  painful  feeling. 

"  0,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  a  price  we  pay  for  loving ! 
What  slaves  we  are  —  we  women  —  to  the  will  of  the  one 
beloved  !  We  are  ready  to  check  our  best  impulses,  to  call 
evil  good  and  good  evil,  rather  than  risk  the  happiness  which 
is  our  life  !  " 

Then,  as  she  met  Lawontica's  look  of  surprise,  she  added, 
more  calmly, 

"  He  will  know  all  soon —  too  soon.  To-morrow,  perhaps. 
or  the  next  day,  will  decide  my  fate.  Frank  is  noble-hearted 
and  good.  When  he  knows  I  am " 

"  Stop  !  "  he  interrupted,  leaning  forward  from  the  shadow 
where  he  had  stood,  as  if  spell-bound,  listening,  half  uncon- 
eciously,  craving,  not  to  know  the  fatal  secret,  but  to  learn  if 


392  A  G  N  E  8  . 

in  any  case,  under  any  circumstances,  there  was  love  in  her 
heart  for  him. 

"  Stop,  Agnes  !  What  you  have  said  has  revealed  nothing, 
and  I  am  glad  of  it.  Do  not  trouble  yourself  for  me.  The 
pain  I  have  borne  I  flan  still  bear,  and  God  forbid  that  for 
my  sake  you  should  add  one  moment  of  sorrow  to  your  own 
life ! " 

He  drew  back  into  the  shadow,  and  was  about  to  turn 
away,  when  Lawontica  recalled  him.  She  had  risen  slowly 
while  he  was  speaking,  and  now  stood  erect,  with  her  arms 
folded  over  her  breast,  her  head  thrown  back,  looking  not  at 
him  nor  at  Agnes,  but  into  the  darkness  beyond,  whence  came 
the  wail  of  the  night- wind,  and  the  ceaseless  dash  of  the 
waves  upon  the  pebbled  shore.  Her  voice  was  cold  and  her 
face  calm,  but  her  keen  black  eyes  burned  like  fire,  and  some 
thing  of  repressed  excitement  in  her  manner  supplied  the 
emotion  she  forbade  her  lips  to  utter. 

"  I  see  the  end  of  the  trail,"  she  said.  "  The  way  is  not 
long.  One  sun  can  finish  it.  Good.  You  no  want  Lawon 
tica  any  more.  To-moller  she  go,  and  you  no  see  her  no 
more." 

"Why,  what  is  this?"  replied  Frank,  as  she  paused. 
"  You  must  come  to  the  farm  with  us.  My  mother  will  be 
glad  to  see  you,  and  old  Sanoso  was  there  when  I  left  home. 
They  will  all  thank  you  for  helping  Agnes  back  again." 

She  smiled  incredulously,  shook  her  head,  and  said, 

"  Who  set  a  trap  to  catch  the  snow-bird  ?  " 

"  We  don't  know,"  replied  Frank,  adopting  her  figurative 


THE     SNOW-BIRD     FLIES     HOME.  393 

language.  "  We  only  know  who  made  the  cage  warm,  and 
the  bird  safe,  and,  when  summer  came,  opened  the  doors  that 
she  might  fly." 

Lawontica  looked  pleased,  but  she  simply  repeated, 

"  There  is  no  more  need  of  the  Indian  woman.  She  will 
go  away." 

"  You  know  we  want  you,"  said  Agnes,  reproachfully ; 
"  and  Sanoso  expects  you  too  —  the  poor  old  woman  !  Why 
will  you  disappoint  us  all  ?  Where  can  you  go,  if  you  leave 
us  ?  You  say  you  will  never  return  to  your  husband." 

"  The  Great  Spirit  is  good.  He  will  do  what  is  best  with 
Lawontica.  She  is  not  afraid  to  go  to  him.  It  is  better  than 
to  stay  here." 

Her  low,  quiet  voice  was  awful  to  hear,  as  she  said  these 
words.  Frank  had  been  told  that  the  Monsey  Indians,  a 
tribe  of  the  Delawares,  were  in  the  frequent  habit  of  using 
poison,  both  to  rid  themselves  of  their  enemies,  and  to  put  an 
end  to  their  own  existence  in  moments  of  disappointment  or 
grief.  But  he  hardly  knew  to  what  an  extent  the  practice 
had  been  adopted  by  the  other  tribes,  and,  though  the  idea 
crossed  his  mind,  he  could  scarcely  believe  this  to  be  her 
meaning.  Yet  he  replied,  gravely, 

"  The  Great  Spirit  is  angry  with  those  who  take  life, 
except  in  self-defence.  Surely  you  do  not  mean  to  chew 
that  poisonous  root  which  I  have  heard  your  people  sometimes 
use  ?  " 

"  The  Great  Spirit  made  it.  He  show  'um  his  red  chil 
dren  where  it  grow.  He  know  sometimes  they  want  ve'y 


394  AGNES. 

* 

much  come  to  him  when  he  busy  and  not  hear  'um  cry,  so 
he  show  'um  how  the  door  open.  S'pose  'um  I  open  the 
door,  I  go  into  the  happy  land.  No  white  man  there. 
White  man's  heaven  great  way  off.  Never  he  trouble  Indian 
there." 

"  Do  you  really  think  you  will  go  to  the  happy  land,  if 
you  kill  yourself?"  asked  Agnes,  in  a  tone  strangely  made 
up  of  fear  and  longing. 

"Yes,  me  go  there.  Maybe  me  stay,  maybe  me  come 
back.  Take  some  other  form,  live  a  new  life.  Never  trouble 
any  more  'bout  this  old  life  me  throw  away." 

"  You  are  wild,  Lawontica.  You  must  not  talk  so,"  said 
Frank,  earnestly.  "  If  you  are  weary  of  life,  it  is  because 
you  do  not  understand  the  true  sources  of  enjoyment.  Come 
and  live  with  Sanoso  in  the  pleasant  valley,  and  let  my 
mother  teach  you  to  read,  and  to  live  like  a  Christian 
woman.  You  have  no  right  to  end  your  days,  if  you  are 
tired  of  them.  But  I  take  this  matter  too  seriously.  You 
cannot  mean  what  you  have  said." 

A  bitter,  scornful  smile  passed  over  her  face,  and  for  an 
instant  the  smothered  flame  broke  out. 

"  Lawontica  will  not  be  a  Christian  —  never !  Never 
oil  and  water  mix.  Always  white  man  hold  his  head  high, 
and  trample  on  poor  Indian.  Many  my  people,  they  take 
the  white  man's  God,  they  learn  books,  they  live  like  the 
Great  Spirit  had  not  made  them  Indian.  What  good? 
White  man  burn  their  town,  drive  them  way  off  to  the 
Bunset.  Lawontica  will  not  have  the  white  man's  God! 


TUB     SNOW-BIRD      FLIES     HOME.  395 

»• 

The  Great  Spirit  made  her  Indian.  He  know  what  is  good 
for  Indian.  Lawontica  is  not  afraid  to  go  to  him." 

She  sat  down  again  by  the  fire,  turning  herself  a  little 
from  them,  to  signify  the  discussion  was  ended.  In  vain 
they  employed  argument  and  entreaty  to  obtain  from  her 
a  promise  to  forego  her  purpose.  She  said  little  more,  but 
after  a  time  went  into  the  tent  of  boughs  and  lay  down,  as 
if  to  sleep.  Agnes  followed  and  lay  down  beside  her,  clasp 
ing  her  arms  closely  around  her  neck,  that  she  might  be 
sure  to'  wake  if  Lawontica  stirred.  Many  thoughts  excited 
her,  and  drove  away  sleep.  She  listened  long  to  the  wind, 
rising  and  falling  in  mournful  cadences,  as  it  swept  over  the 
lake  into  the  forest ;  to  the  clanging  cry  of  the  loon,  and  the 
lapping  of  the  waters  against  the  beach  with  a  sound  like  the 
whisperings  and  the  muffled  tread  of  an  approaching  multi 
tude.  By  her  side  the  Indian  woman  breathed  calm  and 
softly,  as  if  in  deep  repose. 

Before  daylight  Agnes  aroused  from  what  seemed  but  a 
moment  of  forgetfulness,  to  find  herself  alone.  She  lifted  her 
head  from  the  rude  pillow,  and  her  cry  of  dismay  awoke 
Frank  from  his  slumber  by  the  fire.  Lawontica  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen.  They  called  her,  and  only  the  echoes  from  the 
woods  replied.  "  As  she  had  chosen  to  leave  them  thus,  each 
felt  it  would  be  in  vain  to  seek  her ;  and  slowly  and  reluct 
antly,  often  pausing  to  listen  and  look  back,  with  many  a 
comment  suggested  alike  by  hope  and  fear  concerning  her, 
they  pursued  their  journey  to  Morristown. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

THE   KEY   IN   THE   LOCK. 

IN  the  complication  of  human  affairs  there  is  nothing  more 
singular  than  the  way  in  which  persons  apparently  discon 
nected  are,  by  a  long  series  of  events,  that  seem  to  have  no 
bearing  upon  their  ultimate  destiny,  brought  together  at  cer 
tain  times  and  places,  where  each  is,  in  the  highest  sense, 
indispensable  to  the  other.  Chance  never  produced  combina 
tions  so  evidently  the  result  of  an  intelligent  design ;  and 
one  who  looks  thoughtfully  at  the  course  of  life  recognizes 
a  superior  power  controlling  actions  meant  to  be  independent, 
and  regulating  according  to  His  own  will  the  motions  of 
beings  who  fancy  themselves  free  to  will  and  to  do  as  they 
please. 

At  the  same  hour  Frank  and  Agnes  approached  Morris- 
town,  travellers  from  another  direction  drove  up  to  the 
tavern  there.  It  was  a  day  to  tempt  one  out  of  doors,  and 
the  "  stoop,"  along  the  shady  side  of  the  house,  was  filled  with 
loungers,  who  used  the  loungers'  self-elected  privilege  to  stare 
at  the  new  comers.  The  vehicle  was  nothing  more  ostenta 
tious  than  a  farmer's  heavy,  yellow-painted  wagon,  and  the 


THE     KEY     IN     THE     LOCK.  397 

jaded  and  dusty  horses  told  by  their  reeking  sides  of  the 
heavy  and  sandy  roads  over  which  they  had  passed ;  but  the 
driver,  a  jaunty-looking  colored  boy,  made  a  futile  attempt  to 
excite  them  into  a  gallop,  that  he  might  make  a  sensation 
along  the  village  street,  and  draw  up  in  style  before  the 
tavern  door.  In  truth,  Juniper  —  for  it  was  no  other  —  felt 
himself  very  much  aggrieved  at  being  compelled  to  drive  an 
equipage  so  little  in  accordance  with  what  he  conceived  to  be 
the  dignity  of  the  Chester  family.  But  the  coach-horses 
were  too  valuable  to  risk  in  the  frail  ferry-boat  which  trans 
ported  travellers  across  the  river,  or  to  leave  in  a  city  subject 
to  martial  law,  and  exposed  to  the  chances  of  war.  There 
fore  they  had  reluctantly  been  sold,  together  with  the  house 
on  Broadway  and  its  furniture,  and  Mr.  Chester  left  New 
York  with  a  determination  never  again  to  reside  within  its 
limits.  From  the  Indian  depredations  they  had  feared  in 
their  country  home  he  might  protect  himself;  but  who  could 
save  him  or  his  daughter  from  the  cunning  of  the  bad  man 
who  had  held  over  them  such  fearful  power,  if  he  found  them 
in  the  city  on  his  return  ? 

Except  when  tidings  came  of  Col.  Stanley's  wound,  and  the 
dangerous  and  prolonged  illness  that  followed,  Evelyn  and 
her  father  had  held  little  conversation  respecting  him.  Mr. 
Chester  well  knew  how  her  delicate  sense  of  honor  made  her 
shrink  from  violating  her  promise,  but  his  more  worldly  ideas 
joined  with  his  deep  affection  in  persuading  him  that  a  vow 
so  extorted  possessed  no  moral  power.  In  any  event,  it  was 
safer  that,  meeting  under  such  circumstances,  they  should 
34 


398  AGNES. 

meet,  if  possible,  upon  equal  ground  ;  and,  hearing  that  Col. 
Stanley,  being  now  convalescent,  was  about  to  be  exchanged 
for  an  American  officer,  he  hastened  his  preparations  for 
removal,  that  the  ultima  ratio  might  no  longer  remain  in  his 
enemy's  hands. 

With  quiet  gladness  Evelyn  had  yielded  to  his  wishes. 
In  the  depths  of  her  own  sad  heart  she  knew  that  only  one 
thing  could  release  her  from  the  obligation  she  had  assumed, 
and  of  that  she  had  no  expectation ;  yet  she  was  pleased  to 
return  to  her  old  home,  if  but  for  a  short  time,  and  to  be 
sure  that  her  father  was  safe  from  harm ;  and  a  certain  pride 
and  dignity  in  her  nature  made  her  prefer,  since  she  must  be 
immolated,  to  approach  the  altar  as  a  victim  self-constrained 
to  the  sacrifice,  rather  than  to  be  forced  there  by  the  iron  will 
of  another. 

A  character  like  hers,  so  strong,  so  equipoised  upon  loftiest 
principles,  so  moved  by  purest  emotions,  secures  its  possessor 
from  being  made  wholly  miserable  by  the  darkest  fate ;  and 
in  the  months  that  followed  the  great  struggle  and  crisis  of 
her  life  there  was  little  to  indicate  the  storm  she  had  endured. 
The  secret  lay  heavy  in  her  soul,  but  could  not  cloud  her 
brow.  Perhaps  she  was  more  quiet,  and  when  she  spoke  her 
voice  took  a  lower  tone;  but  she  was  not  less  cheerful,  less 
thoughtful  of  others,  less  devoted  to  the  minute  cares  that 
make  up  the  sum  of  daily  comfort,  than  in  her  happiest 
days.  Yet  her  father  grew  almost  impatient  at  this  reticence, 
against  which  he  could  not  argue ;  and,  nervous  beneath  the 
weight  of  his  own  vacillating  purposes,  half  resented  the 


THE     KEY     IN     THE     LOCK.  899 

firmness,  by  which  in  some  unaccountable  manner  she  seemed 
to  have  passed  from  under  his  control.  Even  in  her  stature 
she  appeared  to  have  grown  taller  and  more  womanly  than 
before.  He  could  no  longer  feel  that  she  was  his  "little 
girl ;  "  and  there  had  never  been  so  few  confidential  hours,  so 
scanty  an  amount  of  home  comfort  between  them,  as  in  the 
winter  succeeding  the  event  which  should  have  united  them 
more  closely  than  ever. 

Fortunately,  Evelyn  was  hardly  conscious  of  this.  The 
strong  patience  wherewith  she  had  clothed  herself  shielded 
her  from  the  touch  of  minor  discomforts.  It  was  as  if  her 
soul  —  her  proper  existence  —  had  gone  forward  to  a  certain 
point,  whereto  she  was  borne  slowly  and  steadily  on  by  each 
revolving  day  —  the  moment  when  she  should  meet  Col. 
Stanley,  and  receive  her  destiny  from  his  lips. 

Thus  it  was  with  an  excitement  suppressed,  yet  scarcely 
controllable,  that  these  two  rode  through  the  street  of  the 
little  town.  Evelyn  muffled  her  shawl  about  her,  and  con 
cealed  her  face  behind  a  thick  veil,  that  she  might  not  meet  a 
casual  glance;  while  Mr.  Chester  looked  eagerly  around,  in 
"hope  to  recognize  the  man  upon  whose  efficient  aid  he  relied 
in  bringing  his  daughter  "  to  her  senses." 

"Beside  these,  there  was  a  fourth  person  in  the  wagon,  whose 
buxom  face  peered  from  the  depths  of  an  immense  bonnet  of 
Dunstable  straw,  set  in  a  formidable  array  of  muslin  cap- 
border,  plaited  and  crimped.  She  grasped  the  side  of  the 
jolting  carriage,  and  leaned  over,  at  the  imminent  risk  of 
falling,  to  gain  an  earlier  view  of  some  one  standing  in  the 


400  A  0  N  E  S  . 

open  doorway,  as  they  passed  with  a  flourish  executed  in 
Jumper's  grandest  manner ;  and,  when  the  horses  were 
stopped,  after  a  break-neck  curve,  and  backing  of  the  wheels, 
to  admit  of  an  easier  descent,  she  scrambled  down,  utterly 
regardless  of  etiquette,  and,  running  up  the  steps,  precipitated 
herself  upon  the  neck  of  the  astonished  youth,  exclaiming, 

"  0,  Jem,  Jem  !  —  to  think,  arter  all,  you  been  and  fit  agin' 
yer  lawful  king !  " 

"  Why,  marm !  is  this  you  ?  —  I  han't,  now !  "  urged  Jem, 
struggling  to  free  himself  from  her  affectionate  embrace,  after 
having  returned  it  somewhat  awkwardly,  in  the  consciousness 
of  twenty  eyes  attracted  that  way. 

"0,  Jem,  don't  lie  now,  that's  a  good  boy!  An'  this 
here  blessed  war,  that  they  've  been  a  prayin'  for  in  all  the 
churches  —  to  think  you  've  gone  an'  took  the  wrong  side  on 't 
—  and  sich  good  wage  as  you  was  a  gettin',  too  !  " 

"Why,  marm,  I  han't,  I  tell  you.  I  jes'  been  stayin' 
round,  waitin'.  I  'm  a  valley,  now,  for  the  Major  —  you 
know  —  Major  Grey  —  I  'm  his  valley  !  " 

"  His  valley !  —  I  think  he  better  valley  you.  Your  work 
is  worth  consid'able.  What  wage  does  you  get  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  an't  pertic'lar  'bout  that,  cause  you  see  how 
the  Major  is  out  o'  pocket,  jest  now." 

"  An't  pertic'lar  'bout  the  wage !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hender 
son,  releasing  his  neck,  that  she  might  hold  up  both  hands  in 
horror.  "  What  pays  your  board,  then  ?  —  how  do  you  live  ?  " 

"  I  forages  for  him,  and  that  does  for  board  an'  lodgin'. 
We  eats  ourselves  when  we  don't  get  rations,  but  most  o' 


THE     KEY     IN     THE     LOCK.  401 

times  the  rations  eats  us,  and  I  camps  down  on  a  blanket 
before  the  fire  in  his  room." 

"  My  soul !  "  exclaimed  the  widow,  —  "  six  good  feather- 
beds  at  home,  an'  you  sleepin'  on  the  floor!  O,  Jem,  Jem! 
that 's  all  'long  o'  fightin'  "agin  yer  lawful  king ! "  and  again 
she  precipitated  herself  on  his  neck,  in  a  paroxysm  of  emotion. 

"  Don't,  marm !  —  you  choke  me,"  gasped  Jem,  quite  red  in 
the  face. 

"0,  come  home,  Jem  —  come  home  with  me!  This  here 
blessed  war  —  it  '11  be  the  makin'  o'  us,  if  you  '11  only  come 
home,  an'  get  a  good  place  like  that  you  had  to  the  jail !  I 
left  the  shop  in  good  hands  —  you  han't  asked  for  it  yet,  Jem ! 

—  till  I   gets  back  —  if   you  '11   only  come   with   me !      I 
reckon  they  '11  take  you  into  the  Sugar-House  agin,  now." 

"  No  doubt  about  that,  marm  —  the  trouble  might  be  'bout 
gettin'  out  again." 

"  Come  home  then,  Jem  !  0,  do  !  " 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  marm !  "  said  Jem,  affectionately,  striving 
again  to  unclasp  her  arms. 

"  He  calls  me  a  fool !  "  cried  she,  in  joyful  tones,  that 
greatly  amused  the  bystanders.  "  Now  I  know  he  '11  go  with 
me  !  Come,  Jem  —  I  come  all  the  way  from  York  to  find  ye." 

"I  wouldn't  start  to-night,  inarm  —  there's  bears  in  the 
woods,  and  they  might  catch  us,  and  I  'd  rather  eat  a  bear 
than  have  him  eat  me.  Come  in  and  get  some  tea  —  that  is 

—  sich  as  we  has  instead  o'  tea." 

His  endeavors  might  have  been  unsuccessful,  so  absorbed 
was  she  in  the  one  idea  which  had  prompted  her  jouroey  hui 
34* 


402  AGNES. 

at  this  moment  Mr.  Chester  came  up,  with  Evelyn  leaning  on 
his  arm.  Mrs.  Henderson  released  her  son's  neck,  and  moved 
aside  that  they  might  pass.  Jem,  who  had  been  burning 
with  impatience,  darted  through  a  side  door,  and,  running  up 
stairs  at  a  bound,  flung  open  the  door  of  a  small  bedroom, 
where  Percy  Grey  was  sitting. 

"  Somebody  wants  you,  sir,  down  stairs." 

Percy  looked  up  from  his  writing,  in  surprise ;  but  Jem  had 
subsided  from  his  brief  excitement  into  an  every-day  expres 
sion  that  revealed  nothing,  and  quietly  added, 

"  It 's  a  gentleman,  in  the  parlor." 

"  You  came  up  so  quick,  I  thought  there  might  be  news  of 
Agnes.  Who  is  the  gentleman  ?  " 

"  He  didn't  give  his  name.     Shall  I  ask  him  up?  " 

"  No  —  I  '11  go  down !  "  and  he  went  out,  leaving  Jem 
chuckling  over  the  success  of  his  scheme  for  an  agreeable 
surprise.  He  heard  his  mother's  voice  calling  him  in  the 
entry,  but  had  no  fears  she  would  be  recognized  by  "  the 
Major."  In  this,  however,  he  was  mistaken.  Something  in 
the  woman's  face  struck  him  as  familiar,  and,  as  he  paused, 
she  again  called  Jem,  with  all  the  force  of  a  pair  of  sound 
English  lungs. 

"If  it  is  Jem  Henderson  you  wish  to  see,  I  will  send  him 
to  you  in  a  moment,"  said  Major  Grey,  pausing,  as  he  passed 
her. 

"Yes  —  it's  him,  and  nobody  else  —  the  runaway  boy 
that 's  breakin'  his  mother's  heart  a  fightin'  agin  his  lawful 
king !  He  says  he  's  Major  Grey's  valley ;  but  I  guess  he 


THE     KEY     IN     THE     LOCK.  403 

don't  valley  him  much,  for  not  a  wage  does  he  give  him  — 
an'  he  a  sleepin'  on  bare  boards,  poor  lad,  an'  me  havin'  six 
good  feather-beds  to  home  —  an'  he  a  eating  rations,  an'  me 
a  livin'  on  the  fat  o'  the  land  —  an'  real  tea,  besides,  if 't  is 
war-time !  " 

In  vain  the  impatient  listener  attempted  to  stay  the  flood 
of  her  loud  words  with  the  questions  he  longed  to  ask ;  and 
at  that  moment  Jem  appearing  on  the  stairs,  she  darted  away 
to  pounce  upon  him,  and  overwhelm  him  again  with  entreaties 
and  caresses. 

Percy  passed  on  to  the  parlor.  The  conjectures  which 
crowded  upon  him  almost  took  away  his  breath,  but  they  pre 
pared  him  to  recognize  the  form,  still  closely  veiled,  standing 
beside  the  window. 

Evelyn  turned  at  the  sound  of  the  opening  door,  thinking 
her  father  had  entered.  He  could  not  see  her  face,  but  she 
trembled  violently,  and  the  hand  she  extended  towards  him 
was  cold  as  ice.  He  grasped  and  retained  it.  She  made  no 
effort  to  withdraw  it.  For  a  few  moments  neither  spoke. 
Then,  glancing  at  the  other  hand,  Percy  saw  it  was  without 
a  wedding-ring.  He  breathed  more  freely,  and  found  voice 
to  say, 

"  You  are  not  married !  Why,  then,  have  you  not 
answered  any  of  my  letters?  " 

"  Have  you  written  any  ?  " 

"  Can  you  ask  it  ?     Have  you  never  received  them  ?  " 

"Never.  I  feared  —  0,  Percy,  it  was  hardest  of  all  to 
fear  that,  perhaps,  after  all,  you,  too,  thought  me  wrong  —  " 


404  AGNES. 

"  Wrong !  noblest,  dearest,  could  you  have  such  a  thought?" 

"  Forgive  me  !  I  have  suffered  so  much,  my  feelings  have 
grown  morbid.  Perhaps  it  was  treachery — it  may  have 
been  the  fortunes  of  war- — but  I  have  not  had  a  line  from 
you  since  —  "  Her  voice  failed,  and  beneath  her  veil  he  saw 
that  she  was  weeping.  He  led  her  to  a  chair,  and  sat  down 
beside  her.  When  he  could  command  his  voice,  he  asked, 

"  What  did  you  think  of  me?  " 

"  I  could  not  blame  you,  since  my  father  also  refuses  to 
allow  that  my  ideas  are  right ;  but. — " 

"  You  was  disappointed  ?  " 

She  nodded  her  head  in  assent,  for  tears  choked  her  words.* 

It  was  mere  accident  that  their  tete-a-tete  had  not  sooner 
been  interrupted;  and  now  strangers  coming  in  prevented 
further  conversation,  and  Evelyn  had  time  to  attain  some 
degree  of  self-possession  before  her  father  entered. 

He  greeted  Percy  very  cordially,  evidently  gratified  to  find 
him  so  soon  at  his  daughter's  side;  and,  with  a  significant 
glance,  informed  him  that,  finding  he  could  obtain  good  rooms 
at  the  hotel,  he  should  remain  some  days. 

Some  further  desultory  conversation  followed  between  the 
gentlemen,  until  Juniper  appeared,  with  his  most  obsequious 
bow,  and  a  grand  air,  intended  to  impress  the  spectators. 

"  De  room  is  preparationed,  Miss  Ebelyn,  in  de  bery  best 
extent,  and  de  landlady  say,  my  Miss'  please  come  up." 

Evelyn  arose  to  go,  but  at  that  moment  there  was  a  bustle 
of  exclamations  and  congratulations  at  the  door,  and  several 
persons  crowded  into  the  little  parlor.  Among  them,  talking 


THE     KEY     IN     THE     LOCK. 

eagerly,  and  replying  to  a  dozen  questions  at  once,  was  a 
young  man  in  huntsman's  dress,  upon  •whose  arm  leaned  a 
slight  girlish  figure,  whose  delicate  complexion  and  golden 
curls,  contrasting  strongly  with  the  Indian  dress  she  wore, 
together  with  her  timid  air,  shrinking  from  the  observation 
she  attracted,  made  her  an  object  of  picturesque  and  peculiar 
interest. 

"  Frank  !  Agnes !  "  exclaimed  Percy  Grey,  and  sprang 
forward  to  meet  them,  his  fine  face  animated  and  glowing  with 
pleasure. 

"It  is  you,  Percy !  Now,  this  is  great  luck !  I  feared 
you  might  be  gone,  when  I  heard  the  general  had  left." 

"  A  small  detachment  of  us  are  left  behind  to  attend  to  the 
exchange  of  some  prisoners.  But  you  —  we  began  to  be" 
seriously  alarmed  about  you." 

"  0,  no  fear  of  me.  I  'm  bound  to  come  out  right  side  up, 
you  know  ;  it  *s  my  luck.  But  let  me  find  a  chair  for  Agnes. 
She  must  be  tired  almost  to  death,  for  we  've  had  a  tramp  to 
day  that  might  tire  an  Indian." 

He  looked  at  her,  as  he  spoke,  with  an  evident  admiration 
that  called  a  blush  to  her  cheek ;  and,  as  a  dozen  chairs  had 
now  been  offered  to  her,  she  glided  from  his  side,  and  sat 
down  near  to  where  Evelyn  was  standing. 

An  instinctive  sympathy  made  the  latter  throw  back  her 
veil  as  she  turned  to  speak  to  her;  and  Percy,  who  had  fol 
lowed  to  introduce  them  to  each  other,  could  not  but  observe 
the  contrast  between  Agnes'  wan,  faded  loveliness  and  Miss 
Chester's  serene  and  majestic  beauty.  Passing  over  the 


406  AGNES. 

indefinite  point  —  Agnes'  name  —  as  lightly  as  might  be,  ho 
said, 

"  Agnes,  this  is  Miss  Chester,  who  I  am  sure  will  be  inter 
ested  to  know  that  you  have  been  for  some  time  under  my 
mother's  protection."  Then,  turning  to  Evelyn,  he  added, 
"  Two  months  ago  she  was  stolen  from  our  house  by  a  party 
of  Indians,  and  my  brother  has  but  just  returned  successful  in 
his  attempt  to  release  her.  This  will  account  for  the  peculiar 
dress  she  wears." 

"  It  is  very  becoming,  certainly,"  said  Evelyn,  with  a  smile, 
"  but  I  think  hardly  so  comfortable  for  the  house  as  for  the 
forest.  If  you  will  come  with  me  to  my  chamber,  perhaps  I 
can  furnish  you  with  a  more  commonplace  garb." 

"  She  '11  be  very  thankful  for  it  to-morrow  morning,  I  've 
no  doubt,"  said  Frank,  as  Agnes  was  about  to  speak ;  "  but 
now  my  advice  is  that  she  should  lie  down  and  keep  quiet 
to-night,  for  she  '11  be  ill  if  she  don't." 

"At  least,"  said  Agnes,  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  may  thank  you 
now  for  the  shelter  of  your  room  until  my  own  is  ready.  I 

don't  know  any  of  these  people,  and "  she  hesitated, 

and  Evelyn  added, 

"  You  don't  fancy  being  made  (une  lionne  malgre  lui.'  I 
sympathize  in  the  annoyance ;  so  let  us  leave  these  gentlemen, 
if  you  please."  And,  with  a  graceful  bend,  she  drew  Agnes' 
arm  within  her  own,  and  passed  through  the  circle,  following 
Juniper,  who  marshalled  the  way  to  a  chamber,  the  largest 
and  most  commodious  in  the  house. 

Their  absence  gave  a  liberty  for   the   gratification  of  a 


THE     KEY     IN     THE     LOCK.  407 

curiosity  which  had  been  restrained  while  Frank  was  busy 
with  his  fair  charge,  and  Mr.  Chester  and  Percy  were  inter 
ested  to  hear  the  details  of  the  capture  and  escape.  At 
length  the  story  was  finished,  and  the  group  of  idlers  scattered 
to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  imparting  the  news  they  had  acquired. 

"  And  now,"  said  Frank  Grey,  "  I  must  see  what  sort  of 
accommodations  the  landlady  has  furnished  Agnes ;  and  then, 
ho  !  for  a  horse,  and  a  gallop  over  to  the  farm." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  rejoined  his  brother. 
"They  have  been  not  a  little  anxious  about  you,  and  will 
be  rejoiced  to  know  of  Agnes'  safety." 

"  Yes,  no  doubt  mother  '11  be  so  glad  to  see  me,  "she  '11  bake 
me  as  large  a  loaf  of  gingerbread  as  she  does  you  when 
you  come  home.  Dear  soul,  she  thought  't  would  n't  be  too 
good  for  you  if 't  was  all  'lasses.  Nothing  like  making  your 
friends  trouble,  if  you  want  to  know  how  much  they  think  of 
you.  Won't  you  come,  too,  Percy  ?  " 

"  I  can't  well  leave  my  command  here.  The  exchange  of 
prisoners  takes  place  day  after  to-morrow,  and  then  we  march 
immediately." 

"  Ah !  then  I  must  go  with  you.  And  I  think  I  '11  stay  at 
home  to-night,  and  pack  up  my  traps,  so  as  not  to  be  obliged 
to  go  over  again.  You  look  after  Agnes'  comfort  while  I  'm 
gone.  I  '11  get  father  to  come  over  and  carry  her  back  with 
him.  But  first  let  me  go  and  see  how  she 's  situated." 

At  that  moment  the  landlady,  who  had  been  waiting  for  an 
opportunity  to  speak,  peeped  into  the  room,  and,  seeing  it 
nearly  vacant,  entered  to  say  that  she  had  no  room  for  the 


AGNES. 

last  young  lady  except  one  which  opened  out  of  the  bed-room 
Mr.  Chester  had  engaged,  and  so  the  first  young  lady  was 
going  to  take  that,  and  let  her  father  have  the  big  chamber 
which  was  engaged  for  her;  and  so  everybody  would  be 
suited,  for  the  big  chamber  had  a  fireplace  in  it,  and  would 
do  to  be  used  instead  of  the  private  parlor  Mr.  Chester 
wanted  and  could  n't  have.  She  was  sure  the  gentleman 
would  like  it ;  and  as  the  evenings  were  cold,  would  he  like  & 
fire  built  up  there  now,  and  perhaps  he  would  like  tea 
there? 

She  was  so^  extremely  smiling  and  affable  that  a  more  ob 
jectionable*  arrangement  could  hardly  have  been  opposed, 
when  offered  with  so  much  suavity  ;  and  Mr.  Chester  signified 
his  acquiescence  in  all  her  propositions,  at  the  same  time 
inviting  Frank  and  Percy  to  take  tea  with  him.  The  latter 
accepted  the  invitation,  and  withdrew  immediately  to  attend 
to  some  military  duties ;  but  Frank  said, 

"  Thank  you,  no,  sir.  I  'm  in  a  good  dress  for  a  fancy  ball, 
but  will  hardly  answer  for  the  tea-table,  being  more  pictur 
esque  than  cleanly.  Besides,  I  'm  in  a  hurry ;  so,  if  the  land 
lady  will  give  me  a  bite  of  something,  I  '11  be  off.  But  first  I 
must  see  Agnes  a  minute." 

Mr.  Chester,  who  had  an  instant  liking  for  the  young  man's 
ingenuous  face  and  frank  bearing,  offered  to  conduct  him  up 
stairs,  adding,  as  they  went, 

"  I  did  not  understand  the  name  by  which  your  young 
lady  was  introduced  to  my  daughter." 

"  Miss  Strange —  Agnes  Strange,"  said  Frank,  quickly. 


THE     KEY     IN     THE     LOCK.  409 

"  She  has  been  with  your  mother  some  time,  your  brother 
said.  Is  she  a  relative  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  unless  friendship  makes  relationship.  My  mother 
loves  her  as  if  she  was  a  daughter." 

"  Perhaps  she  will  yet  bear  that  title  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester, 
courteously. 

Frank  bit  his  lip,  but  made  no  answer.  His  companion 
thought  he  was  annoyed  at  the  remark,  and  hastened  to  apol 
ogize  for  the  liberty  he  had  taken. 

"  No  ofience,  sir.  I  wish  it  could  be  so,"  said  Frank,  but 
the  sunshine  of  his  face  was  gone. 

They  rapped  at  the  chamber-door,  and  it  was  opened  by 
Mrs.  Henderson,  who,  being  for  the  nonce  lady's  maid,  was 
bustling  about  with  an  air  of  general  helpfulness.  The  land 
lady  was  on  her  knees  before  the  chimney,  transforming  her 
bright  face  into  bellows  for  the  benefit  of  a  small  blaze  which 
was  beginning  to  leap  up  around  the  dry  sticks  placed  above 
it  upon  andirons  bright  as  gold.  Curtains  of  white  dimity, 
fringed  and  tasselled  by  the  housewife's  skilful  fingers,  were 
closely  drawn  around  a  bed  in  the  corner,  but  they  were  looped 
back  from  the  windows  to  admit  the  lingering  daylight.  The 
wooden  chairs  were  set  primly  in  their  places,  with  a  touch- 
me-not  aspect ;  but  a  square  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room, 
covered  with  a  white  cloth,  gave  token  of  the  supper  which 
was  to  be  provided. 

Miss  Chester  and  her  friend  had  retired  to  their  own  rooms, 
one  of  which  opened  out  of  this. 
35 


410  AGNES. 

"  "Will  you  tell  Miss  Strange  Mr.  Grey  wishes  to  see  her  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Chester  to  Mrs.  Henderson. 

"Strange!  —  that's  her  name,  is  it?  I  axed  her  what 
't  was,  and  she  kind  o'  mumbled  somethin',  nobody  could  tell 
what.  Strange  by  name  and  strange  by  natur,  I  say  —  stole 
away  by  them  Injins,  my  Jem  says,  and  kep'  all  winter —  " 

Thus  talking,  she  disappeared,  and  in  a  few  moments 
Agnes  entered.  She  had  doffed  her  Indian  costume  for  one 
of  Evelyn's  travelling  dresses,  which,  though  much  too  large, 
had  been  partially  fitted  to  her  by  the  dextrous  use  of  pins 
and  needle.  .She  laughed  with  them  at  the  oddity  of  her 
appearance  as  she  advanced,  holding  up  the  long  skirt  like  a 
riding-habit. 

"  I  had  n't  time  quite  to  complete  my  toilet ;  but  they  said 
you  were  going  away,  and  I  would  not  keep  you  waiting. 
You  are  going  home  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  thought  so.    Tell  them  how  I  have  longed  to  see  them." 

"Father  will  come  over  to-morrow,  and  take  you  home. 
You  will  be  comfortable  here  to-night,  won't  you  ?  " 

She  sighed  and  smiled  at  once  as  she  answered,  "  Yes  — 
but  you  remember  what  I  told  you."  Then,  in  a  lower  voice, 
"  I  shall  not  rest  a  moment  now  until  I  know  my  fate." 

Frank  glanced  around  uneasily,  and  to  his  great  relief  saw 
that  Mr.  Chester  had  left  the  room.  Drawing  Agnes  to  the 
window  furthest  from  the  chimney,  where  their  hostess  was 
still  puffing  at  the  flame,  he  said, 

"  I  became  so  gradually  used  to  the  mystery  which  envel- 


THE     KEY     IN     THE     LOCK.  411 

ops  you  that  I  hardly  realized  how  strange  it  was  to  give  you 
but  one  name.  At  our  house,  where  there  was  nobody  to  be 
curious  about  it,  it  did  not  signify,  but  here  it  won't  do.  Mr. 
Chester  asked,  and  I  told  him  you  were  '  Agnes  Strange.'  " 

"  0,  Frank  !  " 

"  What  could  I  do  ?  There  was  no  time  for  explanation, 
and  I  could  not  allow  you  to  be  compromised  with  him.  For 
my  sake,  if  not  for  your  own,  bear  this  name  at  present.  It 
belongs  to  you;  for  your  life  is  strange,  if  you  are  not.  Al 
most  any  one  else  would  have  taken  a  name  in  the  first  place." 

"  I  did  not  like  to.  I  did  not  realize  at  first  how  it  would 
be,  and  after  that  it  seemed  like  a  lie  to  tell  your  mother  any 
name  but  the  one  I  ought  to  bear." 

"  And  why  not  tell  that  ?  " 

"  I  could  not.  You  will  know  why  to-morrow.  All  will 
be  known  then." 

She  turned  very  pale,  and  pressed  her  hands  over  her  heart 
with  a  faint  cry,  as  if  of  pain.  Then  she  added, 

"  These  people  —  my  fate  must  have  brought  them  here 
just  now.  This  lady  is  the  one  your  brother  spoke  of  that 
day.  She  is  engaged  to  Col.  Stanley." 

A  blinding  light  flashed  over  Frank's  brain. 

"  I  know  it.     What  of  it?  "  he  asked,  almost  sternly. 

"  No  matter,  now.     My  fate  is  mixed  with  hers." 

He  seized  her  hands  with  a  sudden  gesture  of  dismay  and 
anguish.  Then,  with  a  groan,  as  if  his  heart  had  broken, 
" I  can  guess  the  secret.  0,  Agnes,  how  I  have  loved  you!" 

The  low,  hoarse  whisper  scarcely  reached  her  ear  before 


412  AGNES. 

he  left  her.  She  leaned  against  the  window,  with  her  eyes 
closed,  pale,  cold,  still.  Then  came  the  gasping,  tearing  pain 
at  her  heart.  The  floor  seemed  to  slide  from  beneath  her 
feet. 

"  My  stars !  "  cried  the  landlady,  "  she 's  dead  faint ' " 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

THE    LOVERS. 

THE  cry  of  their  hostess  brought  Mrs.  Henderson  and 
Evelyn  to  her  aid.  Agnes  was  laid  on  a  bed  in  the  inner 
room,  and  some  simple  remedies  speedily  restored  life  and 
breath.  But  she  seemed  very  weary  and  worn,  and  her 
nurses  decided  she  must  not  attempt  to  sit  up  that  evening. 
She  was  accordingly  undressed,  and  after  taking  tea  sank 
into  a  sound  and  refreshing  slumber. 

Evelyn  left  her  to  repose,  and  joined  her  father  and  Percy 
at  the  supper- table.  During  their  meal  Mr.  Chester  exerted 
himself  to  entertain  the  others,  who  seemed  little  inclined  to 
talk;  and,  possessing  much  conversational  ability,  he  was  able 
in  some  degree  to  interest  and  amuse  his  abstracted  listeners. 
But,  when  the  table  was  cleared,  and  Juniper  had  retired, 
after  heaping  fresh  wood  upon  the  fire,  he  drew  the  table  to 
the  cheerful  hearth,  and,  begging  them  to  excuse  him,  as  he 
had  important  writing  to  perform,  considerately  turned  his 
back  upon  the  young  couple,  and  left  them  to  their  own 
resources. 

35* 


414  AGNES. 

They  sat  beside  the  window,  from  which  the  curtain  was 
still  withdrawn.  At  first,  they  looked  out  into  the  night, 
gloriously  beautiful,  with  its  millions  of  stars  shining  behind 
the  veil  of  darkness  through  which  their  eyes  sought  the 
infinite  heavens.  Even  thus  luminous,  far  off,  and  inaccess 
ible,  seemed  the  hopes  they  had  once  called  their  own> 
awaking  only  the  same  quiet  hopelessness,  the  longing,  the 
heart-aching,  which  the  weird  influences  of  nocturnal  hours 
arouse  in  the  soul  of  the  unhappy. 

Afterwards  they  conversed  in  low  tones,  that  scarcely  broke 
the  brooding  stillness.  Of  what  they  had  felt  they  dared 
not  speak.  If  the  floodgates  should  be  lifted  ever  so  little, 
each  was  conscious  that  the  pressing,  swelling  torrent  behind 
would  bear  away  all  barriers  in  its  resistless  force.  Into  the 
future  they  would  not  trust  themselves  to  look.  Yet  there 
was  much  to  tell  of  individual  action  and  external  circum 
stances  which  had  influenced  their  destiny. 

Evelyn  detailed  more  at  length  than  she  had  been  able  to  do 
in  a  letter  the  particulars  of  her  entanglement  with  Col.  Stan 
ley,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  learning  by  a  few  whispered 
syllables,  of  reading  in  his  expressive  face,  of  feeling  by  the 
magnetic  pressure  of  his  hand,  how  entirely  he  appreciated 
her  conduct,  and  approved  the  nobleness  of  her  decision.  He 
hung  upon  her  words.  His  soul  drank  in  the  delicious  poison, 
bitter-sweet,  that  flowed  from  those  beautiful,  tremulous  lips, 
to  kill  his  happiness  and  her  own.  He  basked  in  the  light  of 
those  calm,  proud  eyes,  even  while  a  shivering  thrill  along 


THE     LOVERS.  415 

his  veins  told  him  how  dreary  was  the  rayless  future,  because 
she  was  too  pure,  too  noble,  to  do  wrong. 

In  his  turn,  he  related  the  chance  meeting  with  Col. 
Stanley ;  the  care  he  had  taken  of  him  afterwards,  because  he 
was  his  enemy  ;  the  struggle  of  feeling  he  had  undergone ;  his 
mother's  advice,  drawn  from  the  infallible  rule  of  life  and 
duty ;  and  the  disappointment  of  his  half-formed  expectations, 
when  Col.  Stanley,  upon  recovering,  had  manifested  anger, 
instead  of  gratitude,  at  learning  to  whom  he  was  indebted  for 
his  life.  Since  Mrs.  Grey  had  left  the  bedside  of  the  sick 
man,  relieved  of  her  care  by  a  favorable  change  of  symptoms, 
that  took  place  the  same  day  his  own  servant  arrived  to 
assume  the  post  of  nurse,  Percy  had  abstained  from  calling 
there.  He  was  glad  to  be  free  from  an  irksome  charge,  and 
had  too  much  delicacy  to  do  anything  that  might  be  consid 
ered  an  intrusion ;  for  the  relations  they  held  to  each  other 
forbade  the  thought  that  his  presence  could  be  welcome. 

Yet  he  was  not  prepared  for  the  sneering  contempt  and 
hatred  he  received  when,  anxious  to  know  the  truth,  and  per 
plexed  at  receiving  no  tidings  from  New  York,  he  ventured  to 
ask  if  the  marriage  with  Evelyn  had  really  taken  place.  The 
reply  to  his  inquiry  was  such  as  effectually  stopped  all  fur 
ther  intercourse  between  them.  Percy's  conflict  of  mind  had 
been  greater  than  Evelyn's.  Perhaps  his  love  for  her  was 
stronger.  Certainly  it  was  more  absorbing,  for  her  heart  was 
nearly  divided  between  the  two  objects  of  her  affection ;  and 
her  devotion  to  her  father,  and  the  joy  of  serving  him,  even 
at  so  great  sacrifice,  had,  in  some  measure,  sustained  her 


416  AGNES. 

through  her  trouble.  Her  lover  had  no  such  aid,  and  the 
clear  introspection  that  assured  her  of  this  difference  made 
Evelyn  look  up  with  admiration,  and  that  proud  love  a 
woman  delights  to  feel,  to  the  height  where  he  stood,  lonely, 
sustained  by  his  honor  and  sense  of  right,  to  meet  unvan- 
quished  whatever  might  befall. 

A  long  silence  followed  this  interchange  of  experience. 
They  were  looking  blankly  at  the  Medusa  face  of  the  future 
thrust  between  them,  and  felt  their  hearts  grow  cold  beneath 
the  petrifying  influence. 

"  After  what  you  tell  me,"  said  Evelyn,  at  length,  "  there 
is  little  hope  that  my  father  is  correct  in  thinking  shame  or 
a  sense  of  compassion  can  induce  this  man  to  forego  his 
cla'ims.  What  can  words  avail,  where  kind  deeds  are  inef 
fectual?" 

"And,  if  so?" 

"  There  is  no  alternative.  My  word  is  pledged.  I  have 
gained  the  precious  boon  for  "which  I  gave  it  —  my  father's 
life  and  honor.  Percy,  I  should  shrink  even  from  your  eyes, 
if  my  own  honor  were  stained  with  a  lie." 

"  It  is  like  you  to  say  so  —  but  it  kills  me  to  hear  it." 

"  You  would  not  have  me  act  otherwise?  "  she  interrupted, 
in  a  quick,  anxious  tone. 

"  No  —  and  yet  how  can  we  live  apart  ?  " 

"We  can  live  —  we  shall  live!"  she  said,  passionately. 
"  When  this  keen  pain  has  come  to  be  a  chronic,  customary 
thing,  hidden  and  unsuspected  of  all,  we  may  even  find  hap 
piness  in  life.  God  will  give  us  rest  after  our  trouble,  if  he 


THE     LOVERS.  417 

wills  us  to  live.     I  could  not  bear  it,  if  I  thought  you  would 
always  be  unhappy." 

"  Yes,"  said  Percy,  with  a  calm  sadness,  "  I  believe  what 
you  say  is  true ;  and  yet  who  but  you  would  have  courage  to 
say  it  now  ?  Duty,  religion,  a  conscience  at  peace,  the  power 
of  doing  good  to  others  —  these  may  comfort  us  both ;  and 
to  you,  perhaps,  your  father's  doting  love,  and  sweet  child- 
faces  bearing  the  image  of  your  own,  to  whom  you  may 
sometimes  whisper  softly  the  name  of  a  lonely  man,  who  can 
never  be  wholly  miserable,  because  he  can  never  cease  to  love 

you."w 

"  Hush !  "  she  said,  faintly,  "  you  try  me  too  far.  We 
must  not  talk  so  to  each  other.  I  have  need  of  all  my 
courage,  and  it  dies  at  your  words." 

There  was  another  pause.    Then  Evelyn  whispered, 

"Go  now  —  it  is  late.  And,  Percy,  I  must  see  Col. 
Stanley  to-morrow,  and  we  must  not  meet  again  until  after 
ward —  perhaps  not  even  then." 

"Nay,  Evelyn — now  you  try  me  too  far.  While  I  stay 
here  let  me  see  you  as  often  as  possible.  That  man  has  no 
right  which  can  interfere  with  this  claim  of  mine  to  be  near 
you,  to  enjoy  to  the  full  these  last  hours.  They  may  be, 
indeed,  the  last.  I  am  going  to  the  battle-field,  and  who 
knows  what  I  may  meet  there  ?  " 

At  these  words,  Evelyn  broke  down  utterly.  The  contin 
gency  for  which  she  had  braced  herself  she  could  endure ;  but 
this,  presented  to  her  thoughts  in  that  quiet  tone,  as  if  it  were 


418  AGNES. 

a  thing  most  probable,  unstrung  her  nerves,  and  she  burst 
into  tears. 

Mr.  Chester  turned  towards  them  at  the  sound  of  weeping. 

"What,  little  girl,  crying?"  he  said.  "I  thought  the 
time  for  that  was  over.  We  are  going  to  have  nothing  but 
smiles  now.  When  we  get  settled  at  the  Close,  you  will 
regain  all  your  roses,  and  Mr.  Grey  shall  come  and  see  us 
there  this  summer,  and  find  you  blooming  as  a  bride.  Won't 
it  be  so,  Mr.  Grey?" 

"  I  should  be  but  too  happy,  if  I  could  hope  to  enjoy  such 
a  pleasure,"  answered  Percy,  in  a  confused  manner ;  and. then, 
more  firmly,  "  I  shall  shape  my  actions  according  to  your 
daughter's  wishes.  She  has  such  power  over  me  that  I 
cannot  dispute  her  will." 

Mr.  Chester  frowned.     "  And  you,  too,  impracticable  ?  " 

Percy  bowed  slightly,  without  replying.  Evelyn  was  still 
weeping. 

Mr.  Chester  looked  at  them  a  moment  with  a  lowering 
brow,  and  then,  with  an  exclamation  of  impatience,  pushed 
the  table  from 'him,  and  started  to  his  feet. 

"  Hark  you !  I  '11  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  your 
affairs.  Your  ideas  are  entirely  too  Utopian  for  my  compre 
hension.  Do  you  hear  me,  Evelyn?  You  may  do  as  you 
will.  You  're  a  good  child,  but  you  're  obstinate.  I  wash 
my  hands  of  you  both.  As  for  you,  sir,  if  you  are  so  little  a 
lover  that  you  can  resign  my  daughter  to  another,  I  can  only 
congratulate  you  upon  taking  matters  so  easily.  It  was  not 
eo  I  wooed  her  mother !  " 


THE     LOVERS.  419 

Having  said  this  in  a  tone  half  angry  and  half  perplexed, 
he  left  the  room  without  waiting  for  a  reply. 

"  It  is  not  so  —  you  know  it  is  not  so !  "  exclaimed  Percy, 
almost  beside  himself  at  this  charge. 

"  He  does  not  himself  believe  it ! "  she  answered  through 
her  tears.  "  Do  not  blame  my  poor  father,  Percy !  He  is 
not  himself,  now  —  he  has  not  been  like  himself  since  that 
fatal  time.  He  is  so  troubled,  so  desperate,  about  me,  that 
he  cannot  see  things  clearly  —  he  cannot  believe  that  I  may 
not  do  innocently  what  would  be  wrong  in  another.  But  we 
—  we  see  —  we  will  not  shut  our  eyes  to  the  light,  though  it 
blinds  us !  •—  0,  Percy,  we  will  help  each  other  bear  what 
neither  might  be  able  to  bear  alone." 

"  Bless  you,  dearest !  I  can  almost  find  a  pleasure  in  this 
trial,  that  so  plainly  shows  the  nobleness  and  purity  of  your 
character.  Such  love  as  we  have  given  each  other  cannot  be 
lost.  It  will  make  us  better  and  happier,  even  if  our  lives 
are  never  in  this  world  united." 

"  And  love  is  not  all  of  life.  We  used  to  say  so  when  we 
had  still  a  little  hope  left,  and  we  can  bear  to  think  so  now. 
We  do  not  need  to  cheat  ourselves  with  vain  protestations ; 
our  trouble  is  too  real  to  make  us  reject  what  comfort  we 
may  gain  from  the  experience  of  the  past.  0,  Percy,  we 
have  lived  through  dark  hours,  and  the  long,  long  agony  of 
life  will  find  an  end  at  last." 

They  were  calmer  now,  and  looked  into  each  others'  faces 
with  a  half-smile,  as  they  stood  there,  their  hands  clasped 
for  parting,  although  both  knew  they  were  cheating  the 


420  AGNES. 

hunger  of  their  souls  with  bread  that  was  like  a  stone.  In  a 
little  while  Percy  went  away,  and  Evelyn  sought  her  own 
room,  thankful  for  the  solitude  where  she  might  commune 
with  her  own  heart  and  be  still 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE   KEY   TURNS. 

COL.  STANLEY  still  occupied  rooms  in  the  house  to  which 
he  had  first  been  carried  insensible.  Since  his  convales 
cence  he  .had  been  admitted  to  parole,  and  treated  with  the 
greatest  courtesy  by  Gen.  Washington  and  the  officers  of  his 
staff.  But  illness  had  not  improved  the  sick  man's  temper ; 
he  wearied  sadly  of  his  captivity,  and  fretted  at  the  many 
delays  attending  the  proposed  exchange  of  prisoners,  which 
would  restore  him  to  the  scenes  wherein  his  hopes  and  plans 
were  to  be  carried  out.  He  looked  with  contempt  on  those 
of  whom  he  might  have  made  friends,  and  secluded  himself 
morosely  from  companionship. 

Thus  he  had  passed  several  weeks,  his  nervousness  and  irri 
tability  seeming  to  increase  rather  than  diminish  as  his  health 
improved,  and  few  had  cared  to  intrude  upon  the  loneliness 
he  so  evidently  preferred  both  within  doors  and  during  his 
daily  walks.  It  was  therefore  with  real  joy,  in  the  hope  of 
being  able  to  afford  his  master  some  relief  from  ennui,  that 
Col.  Stanley's  servant  entered  the  chamber  on  the  morning 
36 


422  AGNES. 

after  Mr.  Chester's  arrival  in  Morristown,  and  communicated 
the  news  he  had  just  learned. 

To  his  surprise,  he  was  answered  with  an  angry  exclama 
tion,  and  Col.  Stanley,  jumping  out  of  bed,  hurried  on  his 
clothes,  swallowed  his  coffee  so  hot  that  it  burnt  his  throat  — 
in  revenge  for  which  he  dashed  the  cup  to  pieces  on  the  floor, 
scrambled  through  the  process  of  the  toilet  he  deemed  neces 
sary  before  presenting  himself  to  Miss  Chester,  and,  having 
by  this  time  nearly  exhausted  his  vocabulary  of  oaths,  re 
gained  some  degree  of  self-command  as  he  threw  on  his 
cloak  and  hat,  and  turned  his  steps  towards  the  tavern. 

The  walk  of  half  a  mile  tended  still  further  to  establish  the 
ease  and  coolness  of  the  polished  man  of  the  world,  who 
prided  himself  upon  being  equal  to  any  emergency.  But  he 
was  very  angry,  and  keenly  anxious  that  even  by  this  unex 
pected  manoeuvre  his  prey  should  not  escape  his  hands,  and 
had  arrived  at  the  hotel  and  followed  the  servant  into  Mr. 
Chester's  apartment  before  he  had  fully  determined  what 
course  it  was  best  for  him  to  take. 

Evelyn  had  awaked  that  morning  from  a  troubled  sleep 
with  a  consciousness  thrilling  through  all  her  nerves  that  this 
was  the  day  for  which  she  had  so  long  been  waiting.  Her 
father  held  her  by  both  hands  as  she  gave  him  the  morning 
greeting,  and  gazed  into  her  face  with  an  anxious,  inquiring 
expression  ;  but  she  made  no  effort  to  turn  from  his  scrutiny, 
and  he  relaxed  his  hold  without  putting  into  words  the  ques 
tion  his  eyes  had  asked.  Their  breakfast-hour  passed  almost 
in  silence,  Evelyn  mentally  revolving  the  probable  details  of. 
her  anticipated  meeting  with  Col.  Stanley. 


THE     KEY     TURNS.  423 

They  had  arisen  from  the  table,  and  Juniper  was  remov 
ing  the  food  they  had  scarcely  tasted,  when  they  were 
startled  by  their  unexpected  visitor.  Masking  his  real  feel 
ings,  Col.  Stanley  advanced  as  calmly  and  pleasantly  as  if 
nothing  disagreeable  had  ever  marred  their  intercourse,  and 
took  Evelyn's  hand  with  an  attempt  to  press  it  to  his  lips. 
She  withdrew  it  hastily ;  and  then,  grasping  Mr.  Chester's, 
he  bade  him  be  assured  of  the  pleasant  surprise  he  had  in 
thus  meeting  them. 

Mr.  Chester  could  not  avoid  smiling.  The  acting  was  a 
little  overdone.  Evelyn's  manner  was  lofty  and  frigid  as 
the  most  inaccessible  iceberg.  Col.  Stanley  noticed  it  all, 
but  took  the  chair  placed  for  him,  and,  drawing  it  nearer 
to  Evelyn,  said,  blandly,  "  he  hoped  he  might  venture  to 
express  his  fear  that  they  had  set  out  prematurely  from  New 
York,  the  season  being  as  yet  rather  early  for  a  pleasure- 
trip." 

"  This  is  not  a  pleasure-trip.  We  considered  it  best  to 
leave  the  city,"  replied  she,  with  emphasis. 

"  And  may  I  ask  where  you  are  going?  " 

"  To  Chester  Close." 

"  My  dear  friends,  it  is  very  unsafe  for  you  to  go  there," 
said  the  colonel,  with  well-feigned  alarm.  "  Have  you  not 
heard  of  the  Indian  incursions  in  that  vicinity?  Surely 
your  lives  will  be  in  danger.  Miss  Chester,  it  cannot  be 
you  are  willing  to  go  —  and  you,  sir,  surely  you  will  not 
expose  your  daughter  to  such  peril  ?  " 

Mr.  Chester  replied  in  slow  words,  that  dropped  from  his 


424  AGNES. 

lips  heavy  with  sarcasm,  while  his  eyes  held  those  of  his  foe, 
"  My  daughter  does  not  consider  that  she  exposes  herself 
to  as  disagreeable  or  dangerous  a  fate  as  might  have  awaited 
her  had  she  remained  in  New  York." 

The  taunt  was  bitter,  and  it  stung  deeply,  destroying  in  an 
instant  all  Col.  Stanley's  imposed  constraint.  He  started  to 
his  feet. 

"Is  this  the  way  you  keep  faith  with  me?.  Is  this  the 
way  you  repay  my  confidence  —  leaving  the  city  at  the  very 
moment  I  am  about  to  return  ?  0,  honorable  man !  I  am 
rightly  paid  for  my  insane  trust !  Fool,  doubly-dyed  fool  that 
I  am !  —  who  ever  kept  faith  with  me  against  his  interests, 
that  I  should  trust  man  or  woman  ?  And  yet  I  believed  the 
world  might  not  be  all  alike !  You,  you,  Miss  Chester  ! — I 
thought  I  might  rely  upon  your  truth." 

Evelyn  was  about  to  speak,  but  her  father  interrupted. 
His  manner  was  provokingly  cool. 

"  If  you  will  sit  down,  sir,  you  will  find  there  is  no  need  of 
all  this  waste  of  rhetoric  and  so  much  eloquent  declamation. 
Our  schemes  are  very  simple,  and  our  purposes  easily  under 
stood.  We  are  not  afraid  of  the  Indians,  and  we  propose  to 
go  to  our  country  home  and  enjoy  ourselves  this  summer.  I 
presume  you  do  not  consider  that  your  claims  upon  this  lady 
entitle  you  to  be  consulted  upon  every  change  of  residence 
while  she  remains  under  my  care;  and  I  know  of  no  other 
cause  of  complaint." 

Col.  Stanley  sat  down,  looking  rather  crest-fallen,  and  not 
a  little  puzzled.  That  Evelyn  should  deliberately  keep  her 


THE     KEY     TURNS.  425 

word  pledged  to  him  was  a  stretch  of  virtue  beyond  his 
comprehension,  for  her  manner  forbade  any  hope  that  her 
feelings  towards  him  had  changed.  And  yet,  if  Mr.  Chester 
was  not  cheating  him,  what  else  did  his  words  imply  ?  Re 
covering  himself,  however,  he  begged  pardon  for  his  violence, 
attributing  it  to  the  intense  disappointment  and  anxiety  he 
had  experienced  in  not  being  able  to  hope  that  any  affection 
for  him  would  prompt  Evelyn  willingly  to  accede  to  his 
wishes. 

She  replied,  quickly,  that  her  father  might  utter  nothing 
further  to  offend  him, 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  this,  for  it  shows  me  you 
understand  fully  the  terms  on  which  I  am  bound  to  you  —  " 

"  You  allow  the  claim,  then  ?  "  he  cried,  joyfully. 

"  Hear  me,  if  you  please,"  she  answered,  in  a  to.ne  that 
checked  his  enthusiasm.  A  few  moments  of  silence  followed, 
for  it  was  only  by  a  strong  effort  that  Evelyn  maintained  any 
self  possession.  Beneath  that  cold  and  haughty  exterior  her 
nerves  were  quivering  so  violently  as  almost  to  impede  articu 
lation,  when,  at  length,  she  said, 

"  I  know  too  well  that  my  word  is  pledged  to  you,  and  if 
you  insist  upon  the  fulfilment  of  our  hard  bargain,  I  must  sub 
mit.  My  father  would  have  me  appeal  to  your  pity,  to  your 
honor  as  a  gentleman,  not  to  force  me  into  unwilling  bonds. 
I  did  so  once  in  vain,  and  I  am  too  proud,  Col.  Stanley,  to 
repeat  the  experiment.  I  am  not  given  to  tears  and  supplica 
tions,  as  most  women  are ;  but  none  the  less  do  I  mean  what 
I  say  when  I  tell  you  that  the  only  way  in  which  you  can 
36* 


426  AGNES. 

awaken  one  sentiment  of  kindness  toward  yourself  is  by 
releasing  me  from  this  claim.  Will  you  do  so  ?  " 

His  eyes  had  been  fixed  on  the  floor  while  she  spoke,  the 
muscles  of  his  face  working,  and  his  white  teeth  gleaming  as 
he  gnawed  his  under  lip.  When  she  paused,  he  looked  up, 
with  every  feature  set  in  indomitable  resolution. 

"  You  ask  what  I  cannot  grant." 

She  bowed  coldly,  and  turned  herself  away  from  him  a 
little,  as  if  she  had  nothing  more  to  say. 

Col.  Stanley  looked  from  Evelyn  to  Mr.  Chester,  who  was 
walking  the  room  nervously,  with  his  head  drooped  on  his 
breast.  His  feelings  at  that  moment  were  indescribable. 
Admiration  and  pity  for  his  child,  and  hatred  for  her  perse 
cutor,  tempting  him  to  an  angry  burst  of  execrations  and 
reproaches,  were  checked  by  the  knowledge  that  an  open 
rupture  between  them  would  still  further  embitter  Evelyn's 
fate ;  and  an  innate  dignity  forbade  him  to  open  a  quarrel 
resulting  inevitably  in  his  own  defeat. 

Col.  Stanley's  cheek  flushed  as  he  gazed  from  one  to  the 
other.  He  felt  keenly  the  embarrassing  situation  of  affairs, 
and  considered  himself  very  much  abused.  Why  should  he  be 
compelled  to  all  this  turmoil,  when  he  would  so  much  prefer 
taking  peaceable  possession  of  Miss  Chester  and  her  estate? 
He  really  loved  her  better  than  he  would  have  believed  he 
could  love  a  woman  —  poor,  weak  things  that  they  usually 
are !  He  intended  she  should  lead  a  very  pleasant  life ;  he 
had  quite  a  feeling  of  gratitude  toward  her  for  the  benefit  her 
property  would  be  to  him.  Certainly  they  must  misconceive 


THE     KEY     TURNS.  427 

him  very  much  to  turn  from  him  with  such  aversion.  All 
arts  were  pardonable  in  love,  as  in  war ;  and,  as  for  giving  up 
the  advantage  he  had  acquired  —  it  was  an  illustration  of 
the  man's  intense  selfishness  that  he  considered  the  demand 
entirely  unreasonable. 

"  I  grieve  very  much  that  your  dislike  to  me  is  still 
unabated,"  he  said,  in  an  excited  manner.  "  If  I  did  not 
hope  that  the  unchanging  devotion  of  a  lifetime  would  cause 
you  at  last  to  relent,  my  feelings  would  be  intolerable.  You 
persist  in  denying  me  any  heart ;  but  no  man  ever  had  more. 
By  all  the  oaths  man  ever  swore,  I  vow  I  cannot  and  will 
not  give  you  up.  Yes,  beautiful  vixen  that  you  are,  curl 
your  lips  in  scorn,  if  you  will !  Do  you  know  I  admire  you 
all  the  more  for  the  determined  wilfulness  with  which  you 
resist  me?  You  shall  be  mine,  and  I  will  show  the  world 
how  proud  I  am  of  you." 

He  had  risen  while  speaking,  face  and  voice  attesting  his 
passion;  and  now  Evelyn  also  started  to  her  feet,  and  turned 
to  him  with  an  expression  that  was  almost  frightful. 

"Beware!"  she  said;  "this  wilfulness  you  admire  may 
become  dangerous.  I  am  but  human,  and  I  feel  this  moment 
there  is  that  in  me  which,  under  some  influences,  might  nerve 
to  desperate  deeds.  In  taking  me,  you  will  take  a  viper  to 
your  bosom.  I  will  sting  you,  if  I  can !  " 

"  Ha !  do  you  threaten  ?  "  he  said,  and  his  lips  trembled  a 
little,  in  their  firmness,  over  the  white,  gleaming  teeth.  Then, 
in  a  moment,  more  calmly,  —  "  We  must  not  have  such  worda 

V 

between  us  to  remember  afterwards.     You  are  excited  now, 


428  AGNES. 

and  I  wili  leave  you.  I  never  feared  man,  and  think  I  shal. 
not  shrink  from  a  woman,  though  her  temper  be  a  little 
shrewish.  Perhaps  it  would  be  as  well,  however,  in  consid 
eration  of  our  future  amity,  that  we  should  be  somewhat 
forbearing  with  each  other  now.  I  see  you  don't  understand 
my  affection  for  you,  but  you  will  appreciate  it  by  and  by. 
For  the  present,  adieu." 

He  folded  his  cloak  around  him,  and,  mindful  of  courtesy 
even  then,  made  his  exit  as  gracefully  as  if  it  had  been  less 
abrupt.  Evelyn  and  her  father  stood  looking  at  each  other. 
Mr.  Chester  held  out  his  arms  as  he  approached  her,  and 
almost  with  a  sob  he  said, 

"  My  child  —  my  poor,  poor  child !  And  all  this  is  for 
me  !  Can  I  do  nothing,  nothing,  to  help  you  ?  " 

But  she  put  away  his  embrace,  as  if  she  did  not  compre 
hend  his  words.  Her  brows  were  set  in  a  hard  frown,  and  a 
wild  look  glared  from  her  eyes.  She  pressed  her  hands  over 
her  forehead,  and  muttered, 

"  He  tempts  me  !  —  the  man  tempts  me  like  a  fiend.  Shall 
I  grow  wicked  if  I  live  with  him,  and  murder  him  some  day 
in  my  hate?  0,  father,  pray  for  me!  0,  God,  save  me!" 

She  broke  from  him,  and  fled  to  her  own  room,  longing  to 
lose  in  prayer  the  baneful  thoughts  that  terrified  her ;  but  the 
object  which  met  her  eyes,  upon  opening  the  door,  arrested 
her  purpose,  and  turned  the  current  of  emotion. 

Agnes  was  leaning  on  the  window-sill,  gazing  after  Col. 
Stanley  as  he  walked  rapidly  down  the  street.  A  long,  white 
night-robe  fell  in  folds  about  her  form,  and  her  dishevelled 


THE      KEY     TURNS.  429 

hair,  wavy  and  golden,  clustered  about  her  shoulders,  half 
hiding  her  eager  face.  She  was  laughing  and  crying  hysteri 
cally,  in  a  guarded,  half-suppressed  manner,  which  long 
habit  had  made  second  nature ;  but,  when  Evelyn  came 
quickly  behind  her,  saying,  "  What  are  you  doing  kere  ?  "  the 
girl  looked  up,  with  uncontrollable  emotion,  and  said,  sobbing, 
and  incoherently, 

"I  could  not  help  it  —  I  heard  his  voice  —  his  voice ! — 0, 
I  should  have  known  it  in  my  grave !  —  I  heard  his  voice  and 
step  —  I  heard  him  going  —  I  must  see  him !  —  0,  it  is  so 
long  since  I  saw  him  !  —  such  weary,  weary  years !  0,  Miss 
Chester,  he  talked  to  you  —  I  listened,  but  I  could  not  hear ! 
What  did  he  say?  How  does  he  look?  Does  he  love  you, 
and  do  you  love  him  so  very,  very  much  ?  " 

Evelyn  listened  with  dilated  eyes.  It  seemed  to  her  that 
she  must  be  dreaming,  or  had  gone  crazy  with  the  struggle 
she  had  endured.  But,  when  Agnes  turned  from  the  window 
whence  Col.  Stanley  was  no  longer  visible,  and  repeated  her 
question,  with  the  most  agonized  earnestness,  "  Do  you  love 
him?  —  does  he  love  you?"  Evelyn  found  both  words  and 
breath. 

"  Who  are  you?  What  are  you?  What  have  you  to  do 
with  him  ?  " 

Agnes  blushed,  and  hesitated.  "Tell  me  first  what  you 
have  to  do  with  him  ?  "  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  trembling 
very  much. 

"Me!  I  hate  him  —  he  has  been  the  bane  of  my  exist 
ence  ! "  exclaimed  Evelyn. 


430  AGNES. 

Her  companion  shrank  and  frowned,  as  if  the  words 
offended  her.  "Does  he  love  you?"  she  asked,  in  an  anx 
ious,  jealous  tone. 

"  He  says  he  does,  but  his  hate  could  not  do  me  so  much 
harm."  ' 

"But  do  you  think  he  loves  you  so  very  much?"  said 
Agnes,  in  a  pitiful,  pleading  voice.  "  Would  he  feel  so  very 
bad  if  he  could  not  marry  you?  Could  it  hurt  or  injure  him 
in  any  way,  if  he  did  not  ?  " 

""Why  do  you  ask  me  this?  —  why  do  you  look  at  me 
so  ?  —  what  have  you  to  do  with  that  man  ?  " 

"  No  matter,  now.     Tell  me  about  it  first." 

"Tell  you!  —  Yes,  all,  if  you  can  in  any  way  aid  me. 
Listen,  Agnes.  Last  autumn  we  went  to  New  York  —  my 
father  and  I.  Col.  Stanley  had  been  sent  over  here  to  marry 
me;  and,  if  I  would  consent,  my  grandfather,  the  Earl  of 
Evandale,  would  make  me  his  heiress.  It  was  that  which 
sent  Col.  Stanley  after  me.  What  can  such  a  man  as  he  know 
of  love  ?  It  is  for  that  he  persists  in  compelling  me  to  marry 
him." 

" How  can  he  compel  you?  " 

"  I  can't  explain  it  all.  An  unfortunate  affair  made  me 
promise  to  be  his  wife,  in  order  to  save  my  father's  life  and 
honor.  He  would  have  betrayed  both,  but  for  this  promise ; 
and,  now  it  is  given,  I  must  keep  it,  though  I  would  rather 
die," 

"  And  he  insists  upon  it  ?  " 

«  Yes." 


THE     KEY     TUENS.  431 

"  Then  he  loves  you !  "  0,  the  heart-break  in  that  moaning 
cry. 

"  In  his  own  selfish  way,  I  believe  he  does ;  but,  Agnes, 
why  will  you  not  tell  me  your  story?  I  have  answered  all 
your  questions  —  why  can't  you  answer  mine  ?  " 

Agnes  seemed  not  to  hear.  She  had  thrown  herself  upon 
the  bed,  and  her  face  was  buried  in  the  pillow ;  but,  as  Evelyn 
bent  over  her,  she  caught  the  words,  "  Poor  me !  forsaken 
—  forgotten !  How  shall  I  dare  to  meet  him  ?  " 

Miss  Chester  controlled  her  own  excitement,  that  she  might 
calm  that  of  her  companion ;  and,  from  her  superior  force  of 
character,  Agnes  was  like  a  child  in  her  hands.  She  raised 
her  wistful  face,  and  said,  humbly, 

"  I  will  bo  quiet ;  I  know  I  must  do  what  is  right.  I 
must  go  to  him  —  but,  0,  I  dread  it !  Suppose  he  should  be 
angry  —  he  is  terrible  when  he  is  angry  !  And  I  have  borne 
it  so  long,  it  seems  to  me  I  would  rather  bear  it  to  my  grave 
in  silence  than  brave  his  wrath." 

"  But  have  you  the  right  to  ?  Whatever  this  secret  is,  I 
can't  help  thinking  it  must,  in  some  way,  involve  the  fate  of 
others.  Why  did  you  not  tell  Mrs.  Grey,  or  Percy  ?  You 
must  have  heard  them  speak  of  Col.  Stanley." 

"  I  could  n't,"  said  Agnes,  bending  her  head,  bashfully. 

"  There 's  no  such  word  as  can't !  "  exclaimed  Evelyn, 
impatiently.  "  Whatever  it  is  right  to  do  can  be  done." 

"For  such  as  you,  perhaps,"  said  Agnes,  meekly  ;  "but  I 
am  not  strong,  like  you.  And  yet,  I  longed  to  tell,  and 
Would,  only  I  feared  it  might  make  trouble  for  others,  and  be 


432  AGNES. 

too  late  to  do  me  any  good.  You  know,  if  he  wag  married,  it 
would  only  make  trouble  for  everybody  to  have  me  here ;  and 
I  did  not  know  he  was  not  married,  until  they  called  you 
Miss  Chester" 

A  cold  chill  ran  along  Evelyn's  veins,  and  for  an  instant 
she  dropped  the  hands  she  had  been  holding.  The  next 
moment  she  blushed  for  her  suspicion,  as  the  clear  blue  eyes 
were  raised  to  her  face.  She  asked,  with  a  sudden  hope  that 
took  her  breath  away, 

"  Are  you,  then,  his  wife  ?  " 

Agnes  started  at  the  question,  blushed,  trembled,  hesitated, 
and  then  cried  out, 

"  I  cannot  tell  what  I  am  —  I  must  see  him  first !  I  have 
waited  all  this  time  to  see  him,  and  now  I  am  frightened,  and 
shrinking,  as  if  I  asked  mercy,  and  not  justice.  Help  me  to 
dress  myself —  I  must  go  to  him.  It  would  not  be  right  to 
let  him  go  on,  not  knowing  I  am  here.  It  would  be  an  awful 
sin !  I  must  save  him,  even  if  he  will  not  save  me.  But, 
0,  Miss  Chester,  he  will  be  angry  —  perhaps,  he  will  deny 
everything,  and  turn  me  away.  What  shall  I  do  then  ?  " 

She  sank  to  the  floor  as  she  attempted  to  stand,  and  clung 
to  Evelyn's  dress,  with  a  pallid,  quiverin'g  face,  like  a  fright 
ened  child. 

Her  feebleness  could  excite  no  emotion  but  pity,  though 
Evelyn  was  filled  with  doubt  and  apprehension  by  her 
extreme  distress.  She  could  easily  see  how  nerves  naturally 
weak  had  been  shattered  by  long  trial,  but  her  imagination 
•ould  hardly  picture  circumstances  that  would  bring  this 


THE     KEY     T  U  K  N  S .  433 

young,  helpless  creature,  alone,  in  a  strange  country,  to  claim 
rights  which  she  thought  could  be  legally  established  with  so 
much  ease. 

After  a  little  thought,  she  brought  Agnes  some  wine,  and 
helped  her  to  dress,  soothing  and  encouraging  her  calmly,  but 
with  a  grave,  sad  face.  Yet  her  manner  made  great  impres 
sion  upon  the  keen  susceptibilities  of  her  companion ;  indeed, 
the  touch  of  her  cool  hands  was*  almost  magnetic,  as  she 
arranged  Agnes'  clustering  curls,  and  smoothed  the  folds  of 
her  dress. 

"  If  you  could  but  go  with  me,  I  should  not  be  so  fright 
ened,"  she  said,  when  ready  for  her  walk.  Her  voice  was 
low  and  even  in  its  tone,  and  she  had  regained  her  usual 
quiet  air. 

"  I  will  go,  if  you  wish,"  was  the  ready  reply.  "  Even  if 
you  are  to  be  blamed,  I  shall  pity  you  more  than  I  can 
express ;  and  I  shall  hardly  have  a  worse  opinion  of  him  than 
I  now  entertain." 

"  0,  do  not  speak  of  him  so  bitterly  —  he  was  so  good 
once !  There  may  have  been  some  mistake,  or,  at  worst,  we 
do  not  know  what  temptations  men  have,  and  how  they  are 
sometimes  forced  into  evil.  0,  Miss  Chester,  he  was  good 
once ! " 

This  utter  self-forgetfulness  brought  tears  to  Evelyn's  eyes. 

"  Wait,"  she  said.  "  Let  me  call  my  father,  and  we  will 
go  with  you." 

"  0,  no,  I  had  rather  not,"  said  Agnes,  hurriedly.  "  I 
must  do  it  my  own  way,  or  I  cannot  do  it  at  all.  I  am  not 
37 


434  AGNES. 

afraid  now.  He  loved  me  once.  When  he  sees  me,  perhaps 
his  love  will  come  back  again." 

Evelyn  kissed  her,  and  led  her  to  the  door,  and  wrung  her 
hand  at  parting  with  something  the  same  feeling  with  which 
she  would  have  dismissed  her  into  a  den  of  lions.  Her  pure 
child-face  was  innocent  of  evil,  but  there  was  little  probability 
that  she  had  not  been  deceived  and  forsaken. 

Half  an  hour  later,  as  she  sat  with  her  father  talking  over 
this  strange  event,  Percy  and  Frank  entered  the  room  to 
gether.  Almost  the  first  words  each  spoke  were  of  Agnes. 
From  Mr.  Chester  the  question  was,  "  Who  is  she  ?  "  From 
Frank,  the  impetuous,  anxious  inquiry,  "Where  is  she? 
What  has  she  told  you  ?  " 

"  Nay,  we  come  to  you  for  information.  We  know  noth 
ing,"  said  Evelyn.  "  She  seemed  excited  and  full  of  trouble, 
but  preferred  going  to  Col.  Stanley  before  she  told  us  any 
thing." 

"  And  you  let  her  go  !  "  cried  Frank. 

"  I  could  not  help  it " 

"  You  let  her  go  alone !  Her  life  is  not  safe  in  the  hands 
of  such  a  man  as  you  know  he  is ;  and  what  chance  has  she 
for  justice  ?  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  burst  out  of  the  room,  and  ran  down  stairs. 

"  He  is  going  there,  and  I  will  follow  him.  As  he  says, 
Agnes  has  no  chance  with  that  hard  man.  Mr.  Chester,  will 
you  come  with  me  ?  "  said  Percy. 

"  If  you  please,  father,  I  beg  you  will  let  me  go,  instead," 


THE     KEY     TURNS.  435 

exclaimed  Evelyn,  alarmed  at  the  thought  of  probable  blood 
shed. 

"You,  child?" 

"And  why  not  me?  Agnes,  poor  young  thing,  will  need 
the  presence  of  one  of  her  own  sex ;  and  I  can  do  far  more 
than  you  in  preventing  the  quarrel  I  fear  must  ensue.  Percy, 
join  with  me, — say  I  had  better  go! " 

Her  earnestness  prevented  opposition,  as  there  was  no  time 
to  be  lost ;  and  in  a  few  moments  more  they  were  on  their 
way  to  the  house  where  Col.  Stanley  resided. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

THE   DOOR   OPENS. 

UPON  leaving  the  hotel,  Agnes  took  the  direction  in  which 
she  had  seen  Col.  Stanley  walk,  but,  in  the  tumult  of  her 
thoughts,  forgot  her  ignorance  of  his  residence  until  she  had 
gone  some  distance.  Forcing  courage  then  to  inquire  of  a 
child  playing  by  the  wayside,  she  found  she  must  retrace  her 
steps  a  few  rods. 

But  the  idea  of  being  so  near  him  took  away  all  her 
strength,  and  quenched  the  resolution  that  had  been  growing 
fainter  and  fainter  as  she  proceeded.  Every  one  knows  the 
mysterious  reaction  of  mind  which  occurs  when  an  object  long 
sought  becomes  attainable,  a  purpose  long  pursued  about  to 
be  accomplished.  Over  mountains  and  seas,  through  track 
less  forests,  and  lonely,  perilous  ways,  Agnes  had  sought  this 
man ;  prompted  not  so  much  by  the  resentment  and  bitterness 
of  slighted  love  and  insulted  honor,  as  by  a  blind  tenacity  of 
affection,  that  no  outrage  could  shake  off,  —  a  yearning,  infat 
uated  devotion,  that  no  neglect  could  kill. 

This  kind  of  love  is  not  common,  but  that  it  exists  the 
experience  of  mankind  has  testified,  and  it  is  found  almost 


THE     DOOE     OPENS.  467 

wholly  among  women.  In  happy  circumstances  such  beings 
lead  a  sweet,  flower-like  existence,  of  which  the  violet  or  the 
lily  of  the  valley  is  a  meet  emblem.  Delicate,  unobtrusive, 
protected,  "  the  daily  beauty  of  their  lives  "  yet  reveals  itself 
in  charms  that  cannot  fail  to  attract  admiration  and  love. 
Their  meekness  and  quiet  do  not  seem  a  want  of  dignity, 
or  their  unruffled  calm  a  want  of  feeling,  and  one  forgets  to 
ask  for  intellect  amid  so  much  grace  and  beauty.  In  other 
situations,  they  have  little  energy  to  struggle,  but  they  will 
bear  loads  of  suffering  that  would  grind  to  pieces  a  more 
resistant  nature,  or  crush  into  insanity  a  more  appreciative 
mind.  They  pass  unstained  through  evil,  because  their 
purity  cannot  comprehend  its  enormity ;  and  their  goodness  is 
so  instinctive  that  at  times  it  loses  the  force  of  a  virtue,  and 
at  times  exalts  them  to  a  likeness  with  the  angels. 

Agnes  was  formed  to  be  one  of  these.  Poor  flower,  torn 
from  its  sheltering  leaves,  flung  like  a  weed  upon  life's  rough 
ocean,  by  what  strange  chance  had  it  battled  with  the  waves 
that  swept  it  onward,  or  striven  to  force  its  way  to  the  spot 
where  alone  it  could  take  root  again? 

The  child  who  had  told  her  where  the  tall  English  officer 
lived  paused  in  its  play  to  look  after  her,  with  an  indefinite 
feeling  of  pity  and  wonder  for  the  trouble  and  terror  in  her 
eyes,  as  she  glanced  at  the  house,  and  then  walked  feebly 
still  further  away. 

A  little  brook  crossed  the  road,  and  she  leaned  over  the 
railing  of  the  bridge  to  think.  She  smiled  at  her  own  foolish 
ness.  The  crisis  must  be  met.  It  was  for  this  she  had  lived 
'  37* 


438  AGNES. 

so  long.  There  was  no  avoiding  it  now,  and  the  only  hope  of 
evading  the  anger  she  feared  was  by  giving  Col.  Stanley  an 
opportunity  of  seeming  to  do  willingly  what  every  considera 
tion  of  right  should  induce  him  to  do.  She  knew  him  so 
well  —  his  determined  will,  his  defiant  resistance  of  the  gen 
tlest  attempt  at  coercion !  She  did  not  think  of  these  as  faults, 
but  as  something  to  be  considered  and  expected  in  arranging 
events  with  which  he  was  connected.  She  knew,  abstractly, 
that  he  had  been  false  and  pitiless ;  but  all  that  seemed  like 
an  intangible  dream,  and  the  reality  to  which  her  mind  clung 
was  the  memory  of  those  bright  days  when  she  had  learned  to 
love  him.  0,  did  she  not  love  him  still?  Spite  of  all  her 
fears,  even  then  she  could  more  easily  have  died  than  lost  the 
opportunity  to  look  into  his  face  and  hear  his  voice.  Might 
there  not  have  been  some  misunderstanding,  some  mistake  ? 
Would  not  his  heart  turn  to  her,  when  he  saw  her  at  his 
feet? 

It  was  with  the  impulse  these  thoughts  gave  she  turned 
and  ran  quickly  towards  the  house  to  which  the  child  had 
pointed.  A  woman  was  leaning  over  the  gate  of  a  little 
yard  before  the  door.  Her  breathless  inquiry  was  hardly 
intelligible,  and  the  woman  looked  sharply  at  her. 

"Col.  Stanley?  —  yes,  he  is  here.  What  do  the  like  o' 
you  want  with  him  ?  " 

"  I  must  see  him,"  was  the  faint  reply ;  and,  after  a  mo 
ment's  pause,  the  gate  was  opened,  and  the  woman  said, 

"  It 's  none  o'  my  business,  any  way,  I  s'posc.  He  's  right 
in  the  fore-room.  Go  in." 


THE     DOOR     OPENS.  439 

Agnes  passed  on,  and  opened  the  door  so  silently  that  she 
was  unheard.  Col.  Stanley  sat  alone  by  the  table,  writing. 
His  back  was  towards  her,  and,  perceiving  herself  unnoticed, 
she  could  not  for  some  moments  summon  courage  to  advance. 
When  at  length  with  a  slow  step  she  drew  near,  he  heard  the 
rustling  of  her  dress,  and  looked  up.  With  an  oath  he  sprang 
to  his  feet. 

"  Agnes !  " 

"  Clarence ! " 

His  eyes  glared  upon  her  with  a  terrible  expression  of  rage 
and  dismay,  and  for  a  moment  they  stood  face  to  face  without 
speaking.  Then,  unable  longer  to  control  her  fear  and  grief, 
she  fell  at  his  feet,  and,  as  he  recoiled  from  her  touch,  she 
sobbed, 

"  0,  pity  me !  pity  me  a  little !  I  have  been  so  very 
wretched ! " 

He  raised  his  foot  as  if  he  would  have  crushed  her  beneath 
his  heel,  and  his  voice  was  hoarse  with  passion,  as  he  said, 

"What  fiend  sent  you  here  to  torment  me?  I  thought 
you  were  dead,  long  ago." 

She  caught  at  these  last  words,  harsh  as  they  were,  for 
they  gave  her  some  little  hope. 

"  Did  you  think  me  dead?  0,  I  knew  it  must  be  so  !  I 
knew  you  could  never  have  deserted  me  so  cruelly,  if  you 
had  thought  me  alive  to  suffer  from  it !  " 

"  Fool !  "  he  muttered,  "  will  nothing  teach  you  how  I  was 
wearied  of  you  ?  The  truth  was  easily  discovered,  if  I  had 
cared  to  know." 


440  AGNES. 

"  And  yet  you  loved  me  once !  Nay,  have  patience  —  I 
know  it  is  all  over  now.  That  beautiful  lady  has  quite  won 
your  heart."  She  wrung  her  hands  passionately,  and  added, 
"  Would  to  God  you  could  marry  her !  Would  she  loved 
you,  and  I  was  dead,  so  she  could  make  you  happy  1  " 

"  You  have  some  sense  left,  if  you  can  pray  that  prayer ! 
If  you  choose,  it  may  be  granted,"  he  interrupted,  scornfully. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  0,  I  have  prayed  to  die,  but  it 
might  not  be  ;  and,  since  I  am  alive,  since  I  am  here,  could  I 
let  you  do  her  this  great  wrong,  and  plunge  your  soul  into 
such  deadly  sin  ?  Much  as  I  feared  your  anger,  much  as  I 
shrank  from  meeting  you  after  I  knew  you  loved  her,  still  as 
I  was  your  wife " 

He  interrupted  her  with  a  sharp,  sneering  laugh,  much  like 
the  snarl  of  an  enraged  cur. 

"  Have  you  told  any  one  this  story  ?  " 

"  I  have  not.  I  would  not  do  you  such  injustice.  I  knew 
you  would  like  best  that  your  own  lips  should  first  acknowl 
edge  me." 

"  You  mouth  it  well !  Girl,  how  dare  you  call  yourself 
my  wife  ?  How  dare  you  take  a  name  of  honor  ?  You  know 
what  you  are." 

She  had  borne  much,  but  at  this  insult  she  sprang  to  her 
feet,  standing  erect  before  him,  and,  hardy  man  that  he  was, 
he  quailed  before  the  look  her  face  assumed.  Those  blue 
eyes  seemed  to  pierce  the  guilty  secrets  of  his  soul. 

"  Do  you  deny  it  ?  "  she  said,  and  her  voice  was  clear  and 
firm.  "Dare  you  deny  it?  By  the  God  above  us,  by  my 


TUB    DOOR    OPENS.  441 

mother's  grave,  by  the  hopes  of  my  whole  life  crushed  in 
your  hands,  I  charge  you,  say  if  I  am  not  your  wife  !  " 
"  You  do  not  know  it  yourself —  you  cannot  prove  it,"  he 

replied,  doggedly. 

» 
A  change  passed  over  her  face,  and  she  cast  down  her  eyes. 

He  noticed  it,  and  his  hopes  rose.  From  the  firmness  of  her 
manner,  he  had  feared  denial  was  no  longer  possible  to  him. 
For  a  moment  neither  spoke.  Through  Col.  Stanley's  brain 
a  scheme  was  flashing,  involving  direful  wickedness,  and  bold 
defiance  alike  of  the  laws  of  God  and  man;  while  Agnes, 
sinking  from  the  height  of  courage  to  which  she  had  been 
roused,  heart-broken  at  his  cruelty,  and  pining  for  his  love, 
knowing  she  could  not  prove  her  claims,  and  shrinking  from 
the  shame  he  stood  ready  to  heap  upon  her,  with  a  sudden 
agony  threw  herself  again  at  his  feet,  exclaiming, 

"  You  know  I  speak  the  truth !  Kill  me  at  once,  if  you 
will ;  but,  0,  Clarence,  do  not  yourself  and  me  the  wrong 
you  are  planning ! " 

"  I  could  kill  you  !  —  I  would,  if  I  dared !  "  he  said,  spurn 
ing  her  violently  with  his  foot.  "  But  blood  reveals  itself, 
and  I  can  get  rid  of  you  more  easily." 

He  raised  her  from  the  floor,  and  placed  her  in  a  chair. 
She  was  passive  as  an  infant  in  his  hands,  and  sat  looking  up 
at  him  with  dim,  tearless  eyes,  like  one  in  a  dream. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  he  said,  standing  before  her.  "  Here  you 
come  with  a  story  you  cannot  prove,  and  threaten  to  interfere 
with  my  proposed  marriage.  Do  you  know  to  what  the  loss 
of  that  lady  reduces  me?  Even  if  she  were  not — by 


442  AGNES. 

heaven !  —  the  only  woman  living  I  would  ever  acknowledge 
as  my  wife,  I  must  marry  her,  or  I  am  ruined.  I  am  over 
whelmed  with  debt ;  my  credit  is  exhausted.  I  could  not 
return  to  England,  for  I  should  be  seized  and  left  to  rot  in 
jail.  Nay,  I  could  not  even  return  to  New  York,  for  my 
creditors  there  would  keep  me  prisoner  in  my  poor  lodgings, 
and  I  should  be  compelled  to  sell  my  commission.  Now,  do 
you  understand  the  trouble  you  have  brought  me  ?  Do  you 
see  how  impossible  it  is  for  me  to  acknowledge  you  ?  Poor 
thing !  of  course  it  is  hard  for  you ;  when  I  think  of  the  past 
I  am  really  sorry  for  you  —  but  what  can  I  do  ?  Don't  you 
see  you  are  ruining  me  by  your  presence  here  ?  Agnes,  you 
used  to  be  a  reasonable,  good  little  thing ;  promise  me  now 
you  will  do  as  I  wish  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  asked,  humbly.  The  picture  he  had 
drawn,  and  his  altered  tone,  which  now  was  almost  kind,  filled 
her  with  the  keenest  sympathy  in  his  perplexities,  and  distress 
that  she  should  have  caused  them.  She  had  forgotten  herself. 
Looking  into  her  eyes,  holding  them  fixed  by  the  magnetism 
of  his  own,  Col.  Stanley  answered,  slowly,  not  without  a 
secret  sense  of  shame  at  the  proposal, 

"  Go  quietly  away,  and  never  again  approach  me.  Then  I 
shall  be  free  to  take  care  of  my  own  fortunes  and  yours. 
You  shall  live  in  luxury — I  will  secure  you  from  want  —  " 

"  And,  you  ?  "  she  said,  in  a  sort  of  amaze ;  "  what  can  you 
do  —  how  will  that  help  you?  I  should  be  still  your  wife." 

That  word  seemed  to  exasperate  him  to  fury. 

"  You  cannot  prove  it ! "  he  exclaimed.     "  If  you  persist 


THE     DOOR     OPENS. 

in  the  claim,  you  may  indeed  ruin  me,  but  you  won't  help 
yourself;  for  I  swear  I  never  will  own  you !  Who  will 
believe  you,  here,  alone,  among  strangers  ?  Men  are  not 
accustomed  to  exercise  such  easy  faith  in  a  woman  whose 
fame  is  stained,  and  with  a  word  I  can  blacken  you  with 
infamy.  You  can  prove  nothing,  and  that  is,  of  itself,  suspi 
cious.  No  man  can  take  up  your  cause  without  provoking 
the  tongue  of  slander,  and  no  woman  will  dare  do  it.  How 
will  you  help  yourself?  Who  will  protect  you  ?  " 

"  I  will ! "  cried  a  voice  full  of  indignant  surprise,  and 
Frank  Grey,  who  had  caught  these  last  words  as  he  burst  into 
the  room,  came  to  Agnes'  side. 

With  a  quick  sob,  she  caught  the  outstretched  hand,  and 
clung  to  the  arm  of  her  friend,  with  incoherent  words  of 
thanks  and  blessing. 

Col.  Stanley  bit  his  lip,  with  a  strong  effort  at  self-control. 
He  had  need  of  all  his  coolness,  for  through  the  doorway  he 
saw  Percy  and  Evelyn  approaching.  He  had  reached  the 
most  hazardous  point  of  the  desperate  game  he  was  playing; 
but,  if  he  lost  it,  all  he  valued  was  forfeited,  and  he  nerved 
himself  for  the  peril. 

Therefore,  when  Frank,  after  a  rapid  glance  from  one  face 
to  the  other,  passed  his  arm  around  Agnes'  half-fainting 
form,  and  repeated,  in  an  excited  tone,  "  I  will  protect  her !  " 
Col.  Stanley  half  turned  on  his  heel,  and  answered,  care 
lessly, 

"  You  are  welcome  to !  Doubtless  you  are  not  the  first 
gentleman  who  has  protected  distressed  damsels." 


444  AGNES. 

"  Your  tone  is  insulting,"  cried  Frank,  "  and  you  shall  not 
insult  this  lady !  She  has  been  all  winter  beneath  my  father's 
roof,  and  is  by  no  means  without  friends.  You  shall  neither 
insult  nor  distress  her  with  impunity !  " 

Col.  Stanley  replied  with  such  entire  calmness  as  almost 
carried  a  conviction  of  his  truth  to  Percy's  mind,  and  stag 
gered  even  Frank's  steadfast  faith. 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  trouble  her.  For  her  own  good,  I 
have  just  advised  her  to  leave  the  place  quietly,  and  offered, 
in  consideration  of  our  former  acquaintance,  to  place  her 
beyond  the  reach  of  want  or  temptation.  But  she  is  not 
contented  with  this.  She  claims  to  be  my  —  my  wife,  for 
sooth  !  —  and  nothing  less  will  satisfy  her.  As  I  chance  to 
bear  a  name  hitherto  honorable,  and  to  hold  some  small  rank 
in  society,  it  will  scarce  be  expected  I  should  be  able  to  grat 
ify  her  so  far,  even  if  she  had  ever  awakened  the.  deep  and 
strong  feelings  with  which  I  await  the  pleasure  of  the  lady 
who  holds  my  fate  in  her  hands." 

He  emphasized  the  word  "  lady,"  and  bowed  low  to  Evelyn, 
who  stood  by  the  door,  uncertain  whether  she  should  go  or 
stay.  Her  sympathy  for  Agnes  decided  the  question,  and  she 
was  advancing  to  her  side,  when  Col.  Stanley,  with  officious 
courtesy,  intercepted  her,  and,  placing  a  chair,  begged  her  to 
be  seated,  adding, 

"  Pray  don't  waste  your  pity  on  the  unworthy." 

But  Evelyn  declined  his  attention,  and  Percy,  drawing  her 
hand  through  his  arm,  said,  in  a  calm  though  anxious  tone, 

"  Whatever  Agnes  may  be,  she  needs  pity.     What  she  has 


T  II  E     DOOR     OPE  N  S  .  445 

been  we  have  come  here  to  learn,  but  not  from  you.  Speak, 
Agnes,  and  tell  us.  You  shall  be  protected  now  and  after 
wards  ;  but  this  is  the  moment  when  all  must  be  known. 
Who  and  what  are  you  ?  " 

She  clasped  her  hands  together,  and  gazed  piteously, 
beseechingly,  at  the  bold,  bad  man,  whose  eyes  held  hers  with 
magnetic  influence.  Swayed  by  fear,  and  love,  and  the 
strange  attraction  of  that  basilisk  glance,  her  feebler  nature 
might  even  then  have  yielded  to  his  power,  had  not  Percy 
placed  himself  between  them,  and  broken  the  spell.  His 
quiet,  grave  air,  and  the  compassion  in  Evelyn's  face,  gave 
her  strength  to  speak, 

"  I  am  Col.  Stanley's  wife.  Before  heaven  I  declare  it !  — 
I  am  his  wife." 

"  Why,  then,  does  he  dare  deny  it  ?  "  asked  Percy,  in  the 
same  kindj  authoritative  manner ;  but  she  only  repeated  the 
same  words,  "  I  am  —  I  am  his  wife." 

"  Can  you  bring  proof  of  this  ?  "  said  Evelyn,  breathless 
with  anxiety. 

"  Alas,  no !  " 

There  was  a  pause.  She  saw  their  faces  take  a  new 
expression  of  doubt,  and  went  on  with  rapid,  eager  words, 
speaking  in  a  strained  voice,  like  one  whose  whole  strength 
scarcely  suffices  for  utterance. 

"  I  was  a  mere  child  when  he  found  me  weeping  in  the 

grave-yard  where  my  mother  was  buried.    0,  surely,  not  then, 

not  there,  could  he  have  dreamed  of  wrong !     A  simple  girl ! 

and  he  a  gentleman  —  so  proud,  so  handsome!     I   should 

38 


446  AGNES. 

never  have  dreamed  of  being  anything  to  him,  if  he  had  not 
followed  me,  sought  me,  talked  to  me  of  love,  comforted  mo 
in  my  trouble.  Then,  of  course,  I  loved  him.  How  could  I 
help  it  ?  He  was  so  kind  to  me  —  I  know,  I  know  he  loved 
me  truly  then!  No  wonder  he  has  changed  since  —  no 
wonder  he  wearied  of  me.  I  knew  so  little  —  I  was  so 
different  from  the  ladies  in  his  world  —  no  wonder  he  did  not 
want  them  to  see  me.  0,  he  is  desperate  now  with  the  dread 
of  poverty  —  he  is  beside  himself — he  does  not  know  the 
dreadful  wrong  he  is  doing  !  " 

"  Good  heavens  !  has  the  man  a  heart,  that  he  can  stand 
there  so  unmoved  ? "  interrupted  Frank  Grey,  moved  past 
all  control  by  such  entire  self-forgetfulness.  A  thousand 
proofs,  legally  attested,  could  not  have  been  more  convincing 
than  the  pathos  of  her  manner ;  and  Percy  and  Evelyn,  with 
an  irrepressible  upspringing  of  heart,  yielded  themselves  to 
the  blessed  certainty. 

"Saved! — saved!"  they  said,  in  low  tones,  and  clasped 
each  others'  hands. 

"  But  tell  us  of  yourself,"  cried  Evelyn.  "  Where  have 
you  been  since  then,  and  how  is  it  you  cannot  prove  your 
marriage  ?  " 

"  I  went  away  from  home  with  him.  He  said  he  had  good 
reasons  for  wishing  to  be  married  elsewhere,  and  it  was  not 
kind  in  me  to  doubt.  I  did  not  doubt  him.  I  knew  nothing 
of  the  evil  that  is  in  the  world  —  of  the  dreadful  things  men 
do,  and  call  it  sport.  I  had  perfect  faith  in  him.  We  went 
away  in  the  morning,  and  at  noon  we  were  married  in  the 


THE     DOOR     OPENS.  447 

next  town.  I  had  never  been  there  before,  but  all  my  life  I 
had  seen  the  old  stone  turrets  of  the  church  far  away  down 
the  plain,  and  it  pleased  me  to  go  there  for  the  wedding.  I 
did  not  know  how  wrong  it  would  seem  to  others.  There 
was  no  one  at  home  I  cared  for  very  much.  Well,  we  were 
married.  I  did  not  think  about  asking  a  certificate  —  I 
never  dreamed  it  could  be  necessary.  We  went  to  foreign 
lands  —  we  travelled  a  long  distance.  0,  how  happy  we 
were !  He  loved  me  then —  " 

She  paused,  and  her  glance  wavered.  Stanley  had 
approached,  and,  looking  over  Major  Grey's  shoulder,  arrested 
her  words  by  that  piercing  gaze,  in  which  the  whole  force  of 
his  will  was  concentrated.  He  knew  its  power  over  her,  and 
trusted  to  it  far  more  than  to  any  contradiction  of  her  state 
ments.  Seeing  her  blush,  and  grow  confused,  Percy  turned 
to  Col.  Stanley,  and,  with  an  air  as  stately  as  his  own,  asked, 

"  Now,  sir,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  " 

"It  is  hardly  worth  while  to  refute  such  an  improbable 
story.  You  see  she  does  not  dare  look  me  in  the  face  and  go 
on  with  it." 

"  What  is  your  own  account  of  the  matter  ?  What  do  you 
say  of  her  ?  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  What  she  is  now  I  will  not  pretend  to  say,  some  years 
having  elapsed  since  we  parted—" 

He  had  gone  too  far.  Agnes  sprang  forward,  quivering, 
but  erect,  fearless,  defiant. 

"  Stop !  "  she  cried,  frantically.  "  Add  nothing  further  to 
your  sin !  You  left  me  there,  in  that  remote  Spanish  town 


448  AGNES. 

shut  in  by  mountains  —  left  me  with  smiles  and  soft  words, 
and  murder  in  your  heart  —  left  me  to  wait  and  watch  for 
your  return,  and  die  of  slow  heart-sickness !  They  told  me 
so,  at  last  —  the  folks  with  whom  we  had  been  staying  —  and 
I  found  they  thought  me  vile  —  a  sinner.  They  said  your 
servant  told  them  so  —  told  them  so  of  me  —  your  own  wife, 
whom  you  had  vowed  to  love  and  protect !  I  went  crazy  then 

—  there  is  a  long  time  I  remember  nothing  of —  they  said  I 
was  so  ill,  they  thought  at  one  time  I  was  dead;  but  I  recov 
ered,  at  last,  and  then  they  gave  me  money  to  get  away  over 
the  mountains,  and  the  ocean,  to  my  own  home." 

With  a  muttered  curse,  Stanley  gnawed  his  lips  till  they 
bled,  and,  turning  on  his  heel,  walked  from  them  to  the 
window.  Even  his  hardihood  shrank  from  that  circle  of 
angry  and  reproachful  eyes.  Agnes  went  on. 

"  Even  there  a  shameful  rumor  had  preceded  me,  and  all 
looked  at  me  coldly.  My  father  had  a  new  wife,  and  she 
turned  me  from  the  house.  They  said  the  story  came  from 
you  —  from  you !  I  could  not  believe  that  —  you  could  not 
have  been  so  wicked.  When  they  slandered  you  so,  1  almost 
forgave  you  for  the  wrong  you  had  done.  I  knew  you  did 
not  realize  what  it  was  —  0,  no,  you  did  not  mean  it  from 
the  first !  Once  you  were  true  and  kind.  P]vil  thoughts  were 
put  into  your  brain  afterwards,  and  circumstances  grew  too 
Strong  for  you.  But  you  did  not  know  how  I  should  suffer 

—  how  could  you  know  ?  —  Men  do  not  love  as  we  do,  who 
only  live  in  loving  !  " 

She  paused,  and  looked  after  him  anxiously,  wistfully,  as  if 


THE     DOOR     OPENS.  449 

even  then,  with  all  the  proof  of  his  villany  fresh  before  her, 
she  could  not  so  wrong  her  love  as  to  accuse  without  at  the 
same  time  excusing  him. 

"But  you  went  to  the  church  where  you  were  married? 
You  found  the  record?  He  could  not  efface  that,  you  know," 
said  Evelyn,  earnestly. 

"  Yes,  I  found  it  all.  I  obtained  a  copy  of  the  record,  — 
it  had  been  but  three  years,  and  the  old  clerk  remembered 
me  when  I  recalled  the  circumstances.  Then  they  grew  kind 
to  me  at  home  —  they  pitied  me.  My  father  wanted  to  go 
to  law  about  it,  but  I  could  not  bear  to  have  him.  I  thought 
Clarence  would  hate  me  more  than  ever,  if  I  forced  him  to 
do  anything ;  and  perhaps,  if  I  did  not  trouble  him,  the  old 
love  would  come  back  some  day,  and  he  would  do  me  justice 
of  his  own  accord.  Besides,  my  father  died  soon  after, 
and  there  was  nobody  to  do  anything  about  it.  So  I  took 
what  little  money  he  left  me,  and  came  over  here  to  find  my 
husband." 

"And  you  surely  brought  the  evidences  of  your  mar 
riage  ?  " 

"  0,  yes,  I  brought  them  safe." 

"  Where  are  they,  then  ?  "  and  Evelyn's  excited  face  bent 
over  her. 

"  I  lost  them,  afterwards." 

"  0,  how  could  you  ? "  exclaimed  her  friends,  in  one 
breath. 

"  When  I  got  to  New  York,  I  had  found  the  place  where 
he  lived  ;  his  servant  told  me  he  had  gone  into  the  country  to 
38* 


450  AGNES. 

be  married  to  a  rich  lady  who  had  great  property  in  England. 
I  grew  almost  crazy  then.  I  thought  there  must  be  some 
thing  I  did  not  know,  some  mistake;  he  must  think  I  was 
dead,  or  he  would  never  dare  do  such  a  thing.  But  others 
knew  I  was  alive,  —  my  friends  in  England,  —  and  what 
trouble  and  punishment  he  would  bring  upon  himself,  what  a 
sin  he  would  commit,  if  I  did  not  let  him  know  that  I  was 
living  before  it  was  too  late.  I  thought,  too,  that  perhaps  he 
still  loved  me  a  little,  and  when  he  saw  what  I  had  endured 
because  he  left  me,  he  would  pity  and  take  me  to  his  heart 
again.  I  thought  he  might  have  left  me  in  a  moment  of 
weariness,  and  been  unable  afterwards  to  atone  for  the  wrong. 
So  I  started  off  on  foot  —  I  had  spent  all  my  money — I 
started  off  to  find  him.  I  lost  my  way  in  the  forest.  I  lost 
the  precious  papers.  I  was  sick  a  long  time  afterwards,  and 
then  I  knew  it  must  be  too  late.  0,  Clarence,  I  never  meant 
to  trouble  you  more.  I  meant  to  lock  my  secret  in  my  own 
breast,  and  die.  If  you  had  been  married,  as  I  thought,  no 
one  should  have  heard  a  word  of  it  from  me.  Never  until 
now  have  my  lips  breathed  it  —  never,  save  in  prayer,  have 
I  uttered  your  name." 

Her  agitation,  her  distress,  through  these  rapid  sentences, 
were  pitiable  to  behold,  and  all  eyes  were  wet  save  the  lurid 
orbs  that  burnt  beneath  Col.  Stanley's  knotted  brows.  Grad 
ually  he  had  turned  towards  the  group,  as  she  spoke ;  and  now 
he  came  near,  his  features  distorted  with  passion,  and  his 
white  lips  working  spasmodically  a  moment,  before  he  could 
command  voice  to  speak. 


THE     DOOR     OPENS.  451 

"  Have  you  done  ?  Is  the  farce  played  out  ?  You  were 
always  good  at  acting,  and  I  see  you  have  not  failed  to  move 
your  audience  now.  If  the  romance  is  finished,  let  us  come 
to  facts.  Where  did  you  lose  those  precious  papers  ?  That 
much  you  must  know,  if  you  ever  had  them  in  possession. 
The  truth  is,  Miss  Chester,  she  is  probably  insane." 

Agnes  wrung  her  hands,  and  moaned,  "  I  lost  them  in  the 
forest.  I  placed  them  in  the  lining  of  my  cap.  I  know  I 
had  it  on  when  I  hid  under  the  tree  after  that  dreadful  thun 
der-storm  came  on.  The  tree  was  all  shattered,  and  they  say 
I  did  not  have  it  on  when  they  found  me.  It  must  have  been 
torn  to  pieces  then." 

At  these  words  Frank  made  an  exclamation  of  extreme 
surprise,  and  rushed  from  the  room. 

His  brother  turned  to  Col.  Stanley  with  inexpressible  con 
tempt  upon  his  face.  For  a  moment  they  stood  regarding 
each  other  defiantly.  Then, 

"  If  this  is  true,"  said  Percy, — "  and,  by  my  soul,  I  believe 
it  is,  —  you,  sir,  are  stained  with  a  crime  at  which  Satan 
himself  might  blush  !  " 

Before  any  reply  could  be  made,  Frank  returned.  In  his 
hand  he  held  a  small  velvet  cap,  and  a  stained  bit  of  paper. 
With  a  cry  of  joy,  Agnes  sprang  forward  to  seize  it,  but  he 
put  her  away. 

"  You  shall  not  have  it  until  some  one  besides  myself  has 
seen  it.  Read  the  paper,  Percy,  and  witness  that  she  speaks 
the  truth." 

In  wondering  delight  Percy  read  aloud.     It  was  a  copy, 


452  AGNES. 

witnessed  and  attested,  of  the  marriage  of  Clarence  Stanley 
with  Agnes  Jayne,  from  the  register  in  the  church  where  the 
ceremony  took  place. 

"  Thank  God !  "  exclaimed  Percy.  "  Nothing  further  is 
needed  for  proof.  But  by  what  miracle  came  you  possessed 
of  this?" 

Frank  blushed  slightly,  but  looked  around  with  a  firm, 
unabashed  manner,  as  he  replied, 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  should  conceal  —  what  perhaps  you 
all  see  —  the  strong  interest  I  feel  in  this  unfortunate  lady. 
From  the  moment  we  found  her  half  dead  by  the  roadside, 
she  has  hardly  been  out  of  my  thoughts.  Do  you  remember, 
Percy,  the  morning  we  left  home  for  White  Plains,  when  we 
passed  that  spot  I  lagged  behind,  and  dismounted  to  examine 
the  spot  more  closely.  Then  I  found  the  cap  on  the  ground. 
The  thick  branches  had  protected  it  so  it  was  not  much  wet, 
and  I  put  it  in  my  breast.  Somehow  it  Made  my  heart 
warm,  and  I  Ve  worn  it  most  of  the  time  since.  I  don't  know 
why  I  did  not  speak  to  you  of  it  at  first ;  afterwards  I  kept 
quiet  because  I  did  n't  want  to  give  it  up,  and  I  knew  she 
would  compel  me.  I  never  had  any  hope  she  loved  me,  and 
did  not  imagine  I  was  doing  any  harm,  as  she  did  not  know  I 
had  it.  She  never  spoke  of  it,  and  I  did  not  dream  of  its 
importance." 

"  Why  did  you  never  mention  this  loss  ?  "  asked  Evelyn, 
turning  to  Agnes. 

"Because,  after  I  got  well,  I  went  to  the  place  and 
searched,  but  found  nothing,  and  supposed  it  was  gone  forever. 


THE     DOOR     OPENS.  453 

So  long  a  time  had  elapsed,  I  supposed  Col.  Stanley  must 
have  been  married  to  that  lady,  —  I  did  not  know  her  name, 
—  and  since  L  could  only  bring  distress  and  trouble  by  telling 
my  secret,  I  determined  not  to  utter  it.  I  thought  I  should 
not  live  long,  and  it  would  not  matter  much  ;  so  I  cared  less 
for  the  loss." 

Frank  turned  impetuously  to  Col.  Stanley. 

"As  for  you,  sir,  you  are  beneath  the  scorn  of  honest  men; 
but,  if  you  have  anything  to  say  for  yourself,  say  it,  and  we  '11 
try  and  give  the  devil  his  due  when  we  tell  this  lady's  real 
name  and  history.  She  has  been  nameless  long  enough. 
She  shall  find  her  home  henceforth  among  friends  who  will 
take  care  she  shall  not  suffer  except  from  the  memories  you 
have  made  so  bitter  for  her  innocent  youth." 

The  baffled  villain  had  endured  tortures  of  shame  and  impo 
tent  rage  during  the  last  few  minutes,  but,  powerless  to  wound 
elsewhere,  he  seized  Frank's  honest  avowal  as  a  means  of 
revenge.  For  a  short  time  he  walked  the  room  without 
replying,  deeply  revolving  some  plan  for  the  future.  Again 
approaching  the  group,  he  held  out  his  hand  to  Agnes. 
Scarcely  believing  the  evidence  of  her  senses,  she  laid  her 
own  within  it,  and  as  the  cold  fingers  closed  over  hers  with  a 
grasp  like  iron,  she  shuddered  and  gasped  as  if  a  snake  had 
clasped  her  within  its  death-folds.  Much  like  the  magnetism 
whereby  a  serpent  draws  a  bird  into  its  jaws  had  been  the 
weird  power  by  which  this  delicate  nature  had  been  so  fatally 
linked  to  one  so  dark  and  cold. 

"  No  further  words  are  needed.     This  woman  is  my  wife. 


454  AGNES. 

Doubtless  you  would  be  slow  to  believe  me,  should  I  say  I 
had  for  some  time  thought  her  dead,  having  been  so  informed 
by  letters  from  Spain.  Since  this  is  not  the  case,  I  must 
accept,  with  what  grace  I  may,  the  results  of  a  youthful  folly, 
of  which  I  repented  long  ago.  Miss  Chester,"  he  added,  more 
earnestly,  "I  beg  you  will  at  least  do  me  the  justice  to 
believe  that  I  never  intended  to  wound  your  honor  by  a  false 
marriage.  I  should  have  made  sure  of  the  event  I  had  cause 
to  believe  had  taken  place,  before  coming  to  claim  your  hand. 
At  the  time  that  claim  was  established,  I  had  not  a  hint  of 
this  girl's  presence  in  America,  or  of  her  existence  elsewhere. 
You  have  wronged  me  from  first  to  last,  and  I  see  now  in 
your  proud  face  you  wrong  me  in  this  matter ;  but  I  speak 
the  truth." 

His  voice  choked  with  bitter  passion,  and  he  turned  to 
Percy  and  Frank,  exclaiming, 

"  For  you  two,  with  your  threats  and  your  contempt,  I 
fling  them  in  your  teeth,  and  stand  ready  to  meet  either  or 
both  of  you  where  we  can  resort  to  other  weapons  than  our 
tongues.  Agnes,  you  will  remain  with  me.  I  will  relieve 
this  gallant  cavalier  of  all  further  charge  of  you." 

He  drew  her  towards  him,  and  she  obeyed  mechanically ; 
but  Frank  grasped  her  other  hand,  with  a  cry  of  dismay. 

"  Agnes,  you  will  not  stay  with  him  ?  Rascal !  villain  ! 
let  go  of  her !  Agnes,  your  life  is  not  safe  in  his  hands. 
Percy,  Evelyn,  persuade  her.  She  must  not  be  left  with  him, 
after  the  insults  of  this  day." 

But  Agnes  disengaged  her  hand  from  his  hold,  and,  greatly 


THE     DOOR     OPENS.  455 

to  their  surprise,  acquiesced  in  this  decision.  Poor  thing ! 
Frank  had  no  thought  of  himself  or  his  own  vain  love,  as  he 
urged  her  so  vehemently ;  but  that  very  urgency,  after  his 
honest  avowal  of  interest  in  her,  made  Stanley's  home,  tardily 
and  unwillingly  as  it  had  been  offered,  the  only  honorable 
shelter  her  circumstances  allowed.  He  said  not  a  word,  amid 
all  their  beseeching,  but  he  held  her  hand  fast,  and  she  was 
thankful  for  even  so  much  of  right  as  that  afforded  to  remain 
at  his  side.  In  defending  her  position  there,  in  resisting  the 
entreaties  of  her  friends,  —  resisting  tearfully  and  tenderly, 
yet  with  firmness,  —  she  began  to  lose  the  keen  sense  of 
misery  and  wrong,  to  make  excuses  for  the  past,  and  indulge 
hope  for  the  future. 

They  left  her  at  last  with  reluctance,  when  convinced  that 
they  had  no  power  to  make  her  see  her  own  infatuation.  The 
dream  from  which  she  had  been  so  rudely  aroused  as  almost 
to  perceive  realities  was  closing  again  around  her.  Again 
came  the  hope,  on  which  she  had  lived  so  long,  that  her 
patient,  untiring  devotion  might  win  back  the  love  she  still 
believed  was  hers  during  the  bright  days  following  her  ill- 
starred  marriage  Notwithstanding  all  he  had  done,  all  she 
had  suffered,  she  seemed  incapable  of  suspecting  that  he  had 
from  the  first  intended  to  deceive  and  desert  her.  Perhaps 
he  had  not.  God  only  knows. 

Finding  all  expostulation  useless,  Frank  left  her  with  a 
hurried  good-by,  and  Percy  led  Evelyn  away.  Their  parting 
look  at  Col.  Stanley  was  met  by  a  smile  of  triumph.  They 
saw  he  was  gratified  at  their  disappointment,  and  hoped  it 


456  AGNES. 

might  induce  him  to  treat  Agnes  more  kindly  than  his 
attempt  to  cast  her  off  would  indicate.  But  their  hearts 
were  ill  at  ease,  and  could  hardly  enjoy  the  blessed  assurance, 
now  returning  in  its  full  force,  that  they  were  freed  forever 
from  the  baneful  influences  which  had  nearly  destroyed  the 
hope  and  happiness  of  life. 

When  the  door  closed  after  them,  Col.  Stanley  dropped 
her  hand,  and,  as  if  the  act  deprived  her  of  all  strength,  she 
sank  down  upon  the  floor.  He  did  not  appear  to  notice  her, 
but  turned  the  key  in  the  lock,  and  walked  the  room  rapidly, 
with  uneven  step  and  knotted  brows,  while  suppressed  excla 
mations,  and  now  and  then  a  groan,  issued  from  his  lips.  He 
was  a  ruined  man,  and  for  a  short  time  his  mind  was  pros 
trated  beneath  the  shock,  as  he  realized  that  all  his  plans 
were  indeed  overthrown,  and  the  desperate  game  was  lost. 
As  his  physical  strength,  not  yet  established  after  his  long  ill 
ness,  began  to  yield  to  excitement  and  distress,  he  sat  down 
by  the  table,  and  leaned  his  face  forward  on  his  folded  arms. 
Then,  for  the  first  time,  Agnes  ventured  to  move.  She  had 
been  regarding  him  with  a  mingling  of  fear  and  pity  and 
faintly-struggling  hope.  Now  she  approached  with  hesita 
tion,  but  her  yearning  heart,  full  of  keenest  sympathy  and 
compassion,  drew  on  her  tardy  steps.  She  even  ventured  at 
last  to  touch  his  brow,  and  put  back  the  matted  hair. 

He  started  at  the  touch,  as  if  he  had  forgotten  her  pres 
ence. 

"  Ha !  are  you  here  ?  What  are  you  here  for  ?  You  have 
ruined  me,  —  is  n't  that  enough?  " 


THE     DOOR     OPENS.  457 

He  spoke  gloomily,  but  his  tone  was  not  harsh,  as  before. 
It  was  impossible  he  should  not  have  been  slightly  moved  by 
the  feeling  she  had  manifested. 

"  0,  Clarence,  forgive  me ! "  she  said,  humbly.  "  You  know 
I  could  not  help  it." 

"  Perhaps  not,  since  you  were  alive,"  he  muttered,  so  low 
that  she  scarcely  caught  the  words ;  and  then,  louder,  "  Go, 
now ;  I  want  no  one  here." 

She  obeyed  quietly.  Evelyn's  forethought  had  prepared 
for  her  a  kind  reception  by  the  shrill-voiced  hostess,  but  she 
scarce  knew  what  it  meant  to  be  called  Mrs.  Stanley.  She 
had  been  without  a  name  so  long!  Col.  Stanley  locked  the 
door  after  her,  and  then,  feeling  the  need  of  some  stimulus  to 
support  his  exhausted  frame,  went  into  his  bed-room  and 
poured  out  a  glass  of  brandy.  As  he  did  so  a  case  of  pistols 
on  the  table  caught  his  eye.  They  were  loaded,  and  he  knew 
it,  and  a  grim  smile  flashed  across  his  face  as  he  took  one  up, 
played  with  it  an  instant,  and  put  it  up  to  his  ear.  His  finger 
was  on  the  trigger.  He  hesitated,  lowered  the  weapon,  raised 
it,  and  then  threw  it  from  him. 

"  Bah !  a  fool's  end !  A  coward's  resort  to  escape  the 
battle  of  life !  I  am  neither  a  fool  nor  a  coward.  I  will  fight 
to  the  end.  Then  is  time  enough  for  death.  Courage,  Clar 
ence  Stanley !  Knots  that  cannot  be  untied  must  be  cut ! 
I  Ve  failed  here,  but,  with  a  stout  heart  and  a  cool  head,  I  '11 
win  elsewhere ! "  His  words  sank  into  low  whispers,  and 
died  on  the  firm-set  lips,  and  his  face  regained  its  usual  cold 
39 


458  AQNES. 

and  thoughtful  expression,  as  he  abstracted  himself  more  and 
more  from  the  past  in  schemes  and  plans  for  the  future. 

The  unknown  future !  Agnes,  at  that  moment,  alone  in 
her  chamber,  kneeling  in  prayer,  was  asking  strength  to  meet 
it. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

FRIENDSHIP    AND   LOVE. 

UPON  reaching  the  hotel,  Major  Grey  was  surprised  to  find 
that  the  morning  had  sped,  and  the  hour  arrived  when  military 
duty  called  him  elsewhere.  Excusing  himself  to  Evelyn,  who 
hastened  to  inform  her  father  of  what  they  had  witnessed, 
he  went  to  the  stable  for  his  horse. 

In  his  haste,  he  was  half  vexed  that  Jem,  instead  of  having 
the  horse  ready,  should  be  wasting  his  time  in  quarrelling 
with  Nip,  whose  sharp  tones  were  heard,  exclaiming, 

"You's  a  bery  permiscuous  ole  fool,  philantering  roun' 
here,  where  nobody  an't  wantin'  yer !  Who  'd  'spect,  now,  de 
way  you  spoke  to  me  den,  I 's  your  s'perior  ?  " 

"  No  more  ye  an't !  Get  out  o'  my  way,  now,  and  the  next 
time  you  turn  the  Major's  hoss  out  o'  his  stall  for  these  old 
trotters,  I  '11  knock  you  into  a  cocked-hat ! " 

The  hostile  demonstration  accompanying  these  words  made 
Nip  retreat  a  little,  and  abate  his  high  airs. 

"  Do'no  what  makes  yer  so  rampatious.  To  be  sure,  dese 
an't  de  coach-hosses  —  dese  aminals  —  but  dey's  passable 
good  fer  haulin'.  Crack  'em  up  s'fficient  wid  de  whip,  and 


460  AGNES. 

dey  goes.  'Sides,  't  wan't  me  put  'em  in  your  mas'r's  stall. 
'T  was  dat  ere  hostler  't  was  roun'  here,  tell  me  turn  out  dat 
aminal  and  put  mine  in.  Dat 's  how  dey  come  dere." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jem,  mocking  him,  "  dat 's  how  dey  come 
dere,  and  dat 's  how  the  Major's  hoss  happened  not  to  have 
no  place  to  be,  and  so  strayed  away  into  the  field,  and 
took  me  all  this  tramp  to  catch  him  !  What  did  you  do  it 
for,  if  you  was  told  ?  " 

"  'Cause  he  'peared  to  be  de  gentl'um  what  managed  de 
business  o'  dis  'stablishment,"  said  Nip,  nourishing  his  curry 
comb. 

"  Him  ?  —  Land  !  Could  n't  you  see  he  was  drunk  ?  "  re 
joined  Jem. 

"  Laws,  no  !     He  'peared  bery  'spectable,"  said  Nip. 

"  'Spectable  !  he  never  was  respectable,  and  never  will  be ; 
and  you  know  well  enough  you  're  lyin'.  You,  that 's  lived 
with  folks  that  is  respectable,  to  call  him  sich ! " 

"  0,"  said  Juniper,  sententiously,  "  der  's  diff'rent  kinds  o' 
'spectable,  yer  know.  I  did  n't  mean  'spectable  for  de  kind 
o'  his  s'periors,  but  for  —  for  —  " 

"  For  a  drunken  hostler,"  said  Jem.  "  He  never  was  any 
thing  but  drunk.  Never  was  sober  in  all  his  life,  except  one 
time  about  three  weeks.  A  man  here  that  know'd  him,  man 
and  boy,  forty  year,  told  me  so." 

"When  was  that?"  asked  Major  Grey,  who  had  joined 
them. 

"  That  was  before  he  was  a  year  old,  one  time  when  his 
nuss  was  out  o'  brandy." 


FRIENDSHIP     AND     LOVE.  461 

"  And  he  is  the  cause  of  my  horse  being  in  this  plight?  " 
said  Percy,  laughing. 

"  Yes,  sir ;    but  I  '11  have  him  ready  in  two  snaps  of  a 

jiffy." 

The  promise  was  sufficiently  indefinite  as  to  time,  but  Jem's 
quickness  gave  token  that  he  would  not  be  detained  long,  and 
Major  Grey  waited  with  what  patience  he  could. 

When  the  horse  was  ready,  and  he  had  gone,  Jem  turned 
to  Juniper,  with  a  fierce  air,  — 

"  Now,  you  woolly-head,  now  I  got  time  to  square  accounts 
with  ye !  I  want  to  know  what  you  meant  by  callin'  yourself 
my  superior  ?  " 

"  Well,  as  in  ref 'rence  to  dat  yer,  dere  's  diff'rent  mean 
ings  to  words,  ye  know,  and  mebbe  my  meanin'  an't  like 
yourn." 

"  What 's  your  meanin',  then,  you  black  dictionary  ?  " 

"  My  meanin'  is,  dat  s'perior  signifies  som'p'un  't  an't  so 
high 's  som'p'un  else.  When  I  say  I 's  your  s'perior,  I  means 
you 's  more  elewated  up  in  de  worle  dan  I  be." 

"Well,  if  that's  it,"  said  Jem,  "I  guess  I  won't  give  ye 
that  thrashin'  to-day  you  Ve  been  achin'  for  so  long." 

Nip  bowed  with  most  profound  gravity.  "  Thankee.  If  it 
all  de  same  to  you,  I  prefers  achin'  'fore  to  achin'  arter  it." 

The  two  boys  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh  at  the  end  of  tho 
little  farce  they  had  been  playing  for  their  own  amusement. 
Before  their  merriment  had  subsided,  the  widow  Henderson 
came  bustling  from  the  house,  calling  Jem  in  a  tone  that 
showed  her  excitement. 
39* 


462  AGNES. 

"  No  need  o'  bellerin'  so,  marm !  I  an't  a  bull-calf,"  said 
her  son,  in  a  good-natured  tone,  as  he  showed  himself  at  the 
stable-door. 

"Where  be  ye,  then?  What  you  guess  has  happened? 
I  know'd  somethin'  was  goin'  to  happen,  for  my  right  eye 
itched  fust  thing  when  I  waked  up  this  morning.  What  do 
ye  think  'tis?" 

"  Good,  or  bad? "  asked  Jem. 

"  Good.     Ye  might  a  knowed  it  by  my  face." 

"  Sure  'nough.  You  're  grinnin'  like  a  chessy-cat.  Marm, 
you  're  a  han'sum  woman  when  you  're  good-nater'd." 

"  So  yer  pa  allers  said,"  replied  the  widow,  taking  the 
compliment  as  heartily  as  it  was  given.  "  Come,  why  don't 
you  guess  ?  " 

"  Well,  now,  good  news  is  news,"  said  Jem,  with  provok 
ing  coolness.  "  Somebody's  eyes  must  itch  every  mornin', 
for  things  is  all  the  time  happenin'  nowadays ;  but  most  o' 
times  they  's  bad.  When  I  asks  '  What 's  new  for  news  to 
day  ? '  I  most  allers  gets  somethin'  wus  'n  I  heard  the  day 
afore.  Beats  all  for  that,  —  these  times ! " 

"  0,  you  plague  !  Why  don't  you  guess  ?  "  exclaimed  his 
mother. 

"An't  I?" 

"  No.  And  what 's  more,  you  shan't  now,  for  I  '11  tell. 
Miss  Evelyn  an't  goin'  to  be  married  upon  Col.  Stanley. 
That  young  woman  what  was  carried  off  by  the  Ingines  is 
Col.  Stanley's  wife,  that  he  run  away  from  and  thought  she 
was  dead  ;  but  she  wan't,  and  now  he  's  had  to  give  up  Miss 


FRIENDSHIP     AND     LOVE.  463 

Evelyn,  and  she  '11  be  married  upon  Major  Grey  before  long 
—  the  old  'squire  says  so." 

"  My  eyes !  you  have  told  somethin'  new  for  news  this 
time  !  You  sure  that 's  true  ?  "  cried  Jem,  cutting  a  somer 
set,  and  throwing  up  his  cap. 

"  True  's  the  book.  But  don't  spile  your  cap,  Jem !  —  it 
cost  me  two-and-six,  good  money." 

"  Spile  it  ?  It 's  past  spilin',"  said  Jem,  surveying  its  bat 
tered  exterior  with  great  scorn.  "  I  declare,  marm,  I  'm 
ashamed  of  ye,  thinkin'  of  two-and-sixpence  now,  when  the 
Major 's  got  over  all  his  troubles  !  I  thought  I  see  daylight 
in  his  face  when  he  was  here,  a  minute  ago."  And  again  the 
cap  went  up,  with  a  jubilant  hurra. 

"  You  're  the  obstinatest  boy !  "  said  Mrs.  Henderson. 
"  But  I  forgive  ye  this  time,  seein'  I  'm  tickled  too.  Miss 
Evelyn  and  the  old  'squire  does  seem  so  happy !  'T  would  do 
you  good  to  see  'em.  Now  I  reckon  I  can  find  out  what 's 
been  the  matter  all  this  time,  and  made  my  young  lady  pine 
away  so  to  skin  and  bones.  Jem,  do  you  know  ?  " 

"If  I  do,  lan't  going  to  tell,"  said  Jem.  "Juniper,  you 
ink-bottle,  le's  see  you  grin  !  What  are  you  looking  so  glum 
about  ?  " 

"  'Pears  like  dat  young  woman  better  staid  'mong  dem 
aborginees.  Col.  Stanley  good  deal  more  'spectable  gentle 
man  for  Miss  Ebelyn  dan  dis  yer  Major — good  deal  richer." 

Juniper's  indignant  face  showed  how  much  his  family  pride 
was  wounded.  Beside  his  own  private  reasons,  based  on  cer 
tain  pieces  of  gold,  which  had  been  the  liberal  payment  of 


464  AGNES. 

some  slight  services,  that  Miss  Chester,  who  was  the  pride  of 
his  heart,  should  give  up  the  aristocratic-looking  colonel,  in 
his  gold-laced  uniform,  for  the  plain  major,  in  his  plainer 
clothes,  was  a  descent  not  to  be  tolerated  without  remon 
strance,  even  in  the  face  of  Jem's  threatening  fists. 

"  Don't  fight  him,  Jemmy,  don't  !  "  said  Mrs.  Henderson, 
as  she  saw  her  son's  belligerent  attitude.  "  The  nigger  an't 
so  far  wrong  about  the  colonel  being  a  more  suitabler  match, 
'specially  as  Major  Grey  has  been  and  fit  agin  his  lawful 
king.  But,  then,  he  '11  go  over  to  t'  other  side  now,  of  course  ; 
'cause  Miss  Evelyn  '11  come  into  her  property  after  the  Earl 
of  Evansdale  he  dies,  and  then  they  '11  have  to  go  to  Eng- 


"  My  eyes  and  Betty  Martin  !  "  exclaimed  Jem,  "  are  you 
a  fixin'  that  up  that  way  ?  When  you  see  Major  Grey  a 
turncoat,  you  may  call  me  green.  His  clothes  an't  made  o' 
that  kind  o'  cloth." 

"  You  don't  suppose  Miss  Evelyn  '11  be  married  upon  a 
rebel,  do  you?  "  said  his  mother,  sharply. 

"  Why  not  ?  Bless  you,  marm,  where  your  eyes  been  ? 
55he  's  a  rebel  herself,  and  so  is  the  old  'squire.  They  'd  give 
any  money  to  see  Gen.  Howe  handsomely  whipped  and  sent 
hon*e  ;  and  so  would  I,  too,  for  that  matter." 

But  this  was  too  much  for  the  widow.  She  held  up  her 
hands  in  horror,  and  then  put  her  apron  to  her  eyes. 

"  You,  too  ?  "  she  sobbed.  "  0,  Jem,  Jem  !  to  think  this 
ere  blessed  war  should  a  gone  and  brought  me  so  much 
trouble  !  Now  I  s'pose  yott  '11  be  sayin'  next  ye  won't  go 


FRIENDSHIP     AND     LOVE.  465 

home  with  me,  and  then,  the  fust  thing  I  know,  you'll  be  a 
fightin'  agin  your  lawful  king;  and,  arter  all  the  trouble  I 
been  to  in  bringin'  of  you  up,  you  '11  jest  go  and  get  shot  some 
day,  and  that  '11  be  the  end  o'  you  !  " 

"  Tell  ye  what,  marm,"  said  Jem,  "  if  I  do,  I  '11  pick  out  a 
clean  place  to  fall  in,  so  as  not  to  get  my  clothes  spiled." 

Mrs.  Henderson  had  given  but  a  meagre  description  of  the 
joy  with  which  Mr.  Chester  learned  that  his  daughter  was  so 
unexpectedly  freed  from  her  entangling  bonds.  As,  when 
clouds  which  have  lowered  over  the  sky  are  suddenly  with 
drawn,  the  landscape  appears  invested  with  a  more  vivid 
brightness  than  during  long  days  of  sunshine,  so  life  acquired 
a  value  he  had  never  before  appreciated,  and 

"  His  bosom's  lord  sat  lightly  on  its  throne.1' 

Nothing  hindered  their  enjoyment  but  apprehension  with 
regard  to  Agnes,  whose  future  lot  could  scarce  fail  to  be  one 
of  misery.  To  Col.  Stanley  her  yielding  temper  and  her  timid 
ity  would  seem  like  weakness,  her  heavenly  meekness  and  self- 
abnegation  like  folly,  and  her  clinging  faith  the  cause  of  the 
fatal  overthrow  he  had  experienced.  Their  fears  increased 
as  they  recalled  the  hardness  and  selfishness  he  had  exhibited 
in  the  various  circumstances  of  their  acquaintance,  and  they 
determined  to  make  one  more  effort  to  detain  Agnes,  trusting 
that  a  few  hours  of  quiet  reflection  had  convinced  her  of  the 
imprudence  of  her  first  decision. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  Percy  and  Evelyn  set  out  for  the 
scene  of  their  morning  excitement.  On  the  way  they  met 


466  AGNES. 

Frank,  who  was  just  returning,  haggard  and  exhausted,  from 
the  forest,  where  he  had  passed  the  intervening  time  in 
struggle  and  self-communion.  At  first  he  avoided  them,  but 
a  second  thought  brought  him  to  their  side.  His  violent 
emotion  had  spent  itself  in  exercise  as  violent,  and  moody 
pauses  of  breathless  thought.  He  was  calmer  now,  and  had 
something  of  his  old  manner,  as  he  said, 

" '  It 's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nowhere,'  and  I  'm  right  glad 
of  the  good  fortune  this  day  has  brought  you  two.  People 
say  'misery  loves  company,'  —  it's  well  she  does,  for  she 
always  has  plenty ;  but  I  prefer  to  have  my  friends  have 
short  faces  when  I  have  a  long  one.  Variety  is  the  spice  of 
life,  you  know  ;  so  just  let  me  look  as  sober  as  I  please,  and 
don't  think  it  necessary  to  condole  with  me.  I  can  bear  any 
thing  in  the  world  but  condolences  and  advice." 

"  You  leave  your  friends  very  little  space  for  conversation 
with  you,  then ;  for  conversation  in  this  world  is  made  up 
largely  of  those  two  articles.  Since  you  don't  place  an  em 
bargo  on  curiosity,  pray  what  are  you  going  to  do  so  desperate 
that  you  feel  it  necessary  to  prohibit  all  advice  ?  " 

Percy  smiled  as  he  said  this,  but  his  tone  betrayed  secret 
solicitude.  His  brother  walked  beside  them  a  few  steps 
before  replying.  Then  .he  said,  moodily, 

"  I  know  what  you  are  afraid  of.  But  at  present  I  don't 
know  as  I  can  do  anything.  You  see  how  Agnes  loves  that 
man.  She  shall  never  suffer  one  moment's  uneasiness  even 
from  the  apprehension  of  anything  I  might  do.  Tell  her  so, 
—  you  are  going  there,  —  if  she  remembers  and  worries  over 


FRIENDSHIP     AND     LOVE.  467 

the  defiance  he  threw  in  our  teeth  this  morning.  But,  tell 
her,  also  —  no — don't  tell  her  —  she  might  not  like  it  —  but, 
the  fact  is,  if  any  harm  comes  to  her  through  him,  he  shall 
pay  for  it  with  his  blood." 

"  There  will  be  time  enough  for  vengeance,  if  you  do  not 
come  into  a  different  mind,"  said  Percy,  soothingly.  "At 
present  we  are  only  thinking  how  we  may  rescue  her  from 
being  subject  to  Col.  Stanley's  caprices.  Miss  Chester  hopes 
to  persuade  her  to  accompany  them  to  their  home." 

"She  will  not  do  it  —  I  know  her  too  well.  She  will  not 
think  it  right,  and,  if  it  was,  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  do 
it.  Poor  Agnes  !  Tell  her  —  no,  no,  tell  her  nothing  !  " 

He  strode  away  abruptly,  and  turned  down  a  side  street. 
They  looked  after  him,  with  a  sigh,  and  pursued  their  way. 
At  the  gate  of  the  cottage  Percy  left  Evelyn,  for  his  duties 
called  him  elsewhere,  and  she  entered  the  door  alone. 

In  the  kitchen  the  "  head  of  the  house  "  was  nursing  her 
baby,  with  three  little,  tow-headed  urchins  grouped  at  her 
feet.  Evelyn  inquired  for  Mrs.  Stanley. 

"  Wai,  now,  't  deu  sound  queer  to  hear  you  say  in'  Miss 
Stanley,  don't  it  ?  Who  'd  ever  a  supposed  the  Colonel  wan't 
an  old  bach'  ?  Here  he  's  been  the  whole  winter,  an'  never 
let  on  a  word  'bout  his  wife,  no  more  'n  nothin'.  You  'xcuse 
my  gettin'  up,  —  the  baby  's  dreadful  troublesome.  Take  a 
chair,  won't  ye,  Miss  ?  " 

She  pushed  one  towards  her  visitor  as  she  spoke,  and  was 
evidently  disposed  for  a  chat;  but  Miss  Chester  declined  these 
overtures,  and,  adroitly  turning  the  topic  of  conversation, 


4G8  AGNES. 

asked  a  few  questions  about  the  baby,  and  the  names  of  the 
three  little  tow-heads  and  then  requested  to  be  shown  the 
way  to  the  chamber  where  she  learned  Agnes  had  remained 
since  morning. 

Depriving  the  infant  of  its  lacteal  rights,  —  a  wrong  it 
resented  with  squalls  of  anger,  —  the  woman  accompanied 
Evelyn  up  stairs,  talking  all  the  way. 

"  Arter  what  you  told  me  this  mornin',  I  did  n't  wonder 
she  did  n't  want  to  stay  with  him ;  but  it  deu  seem  queer  that 
when  he  an't  seen  her  all  this  while,  and  she  come  all  this 
way  to  see  him,  he  should  n't  a  sent  for  her,  or  inquired  for 
her,  or  somethin',  'fore  this  time.  She  's  sich  a  pretty-spoken 
little  thing,  too  !  " 

"  I  fear  he  has  been  but  a  harsh  and  cruel  husband  to  her," 
said  Miss  Chester,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Well,  some  men  is.  Now,  my  man  —  he's  a  good- 
natured  creter  enough,  too,  as  men  go  —  but  sometimes  he 's 
so  contrary,  I  tell  him  there 's  no  living  with  him,  and,  if 
he  don't  shet  up,  I  '11  clear  out  —  and  I  'd  do  it,  too,  in  a 
minute." 

"What  does  he  say  to  such  a  threat?" 

"0,  he  hauls  in  his  horns,  then,  when  he  sees  I  'm  in 
earnest.  He  knows  I  would  n't  take  the  children,  and  the 
law  could  n't  make  me ;  and  what  on  earth  could  he  do  with 
'em  without  me?  He  thinks  a  sight  o'  the  children,  too. 
That 's  the  main  use,  I  think,  children  is,  in  a  family.  They 's 
great  helps  to  a  woman  about  managin'  her  man." 


FRIENDSHIP     AND      LOVE.  469 

"  But  you  would  n't  really  go,  and  leave  your  children  ?  " 
asked  Miss  Chester,  much  amused  by  this  revelation  of  the 
secrets  of  family  government. 

"  Indeed,  I  would,  in  a  minute,  if  he  plagued  me  to  it ! 
They  're  his  young  ones  as  much  as  they  're  mine  —  every 
soul  on  'em ;  and  I  don't  see  why  I  should  have  all  the 
trouble  of  'em,  and  he  off  all  day,  and  don't  know  nothin' 
about  it.  '  Turn  about  is  fair  play,'  so  I  say.  If  I  mind 
the  children,  let  me  have  my  own  way  about  house  matters,  to 
pay  me  for  it." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  chamber,  and  Evelyn 
entered,  while  her  loquacious  guide  returned  to  the  crying 
baby. 

Agnes  was  sitting  by  the  open  window,  her  head  leaned 
wearily  on  her  hand,  and  her  dreamy  eyes  fixed  on  the  far 
distance.  She  was  calm,  but  very  pale,  and  Evelyn  was 
struck  with  the  haggard,  exhausted  look  in  that  young  face. 
Although  they  had  never  met,  had  hardly  heard  of  each  other, 
before  the  preceding  evening,  the  rapid  course  of  events  since 
then  had  so  woven  their  hearts  together  that  they  seemed  like 
old  friends,  and  Agnes  sprang,  with  a  cry  of  joy,  to  the  arms 
opened  to  receive  her. 

"  I  thought  you  would  come,"  she  said.  "  Did  n't  they  say, 
last  night,  the  prisoners  were  to  be  exchanged  to-morrow  ?  I 
thought  you  would  want  to  see  nie  once  more,  and  I  had  so 
many  messages  to  send  to  them  all  —  they  have  been  so  kind 
to  me ! " 

40 


470  AGNES. 

"  Do  you  still  persist  in  your  determination  to  go  with  Col. 
Stanley  ?  "  asked  her  friend. 

"  What  else  can  I  do  ?  "  she  answered,  with  a  troubled 
expression. 

"  Stay  with  me.  0,  dear  Agnes,  I  love  you.  I  will  be  a 
sister  to  you,  and  my  father  is  ready  to  welcome  you  to  our 
home." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  Agnes,  returning  the  warm 
embrace  which  gave  force  to  these  words. 

"  And  you  will  come  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  must  not  leave  my  husband." 

The  words  were  in  a  whisper,  but  there  was  a  certain  pride 
in  them  which  did  not  escape  Evelyn's  notice. 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  best  so  ?  "  she  said.  "  Of  course,  by 
so  doing,  you  separate  wholly  from  us ;  and  dare  you  trust 
him  after  what  has  passed  ?  Don't  look  at  me  so  reproach 
fully  !  If  I  seem  harsh,  it  is  because  I  am  so  truly  your 
friend.  At  any  rate,  don't  go  with  him  to-morrow.  There 
are  abundant  reasons  why  you  should  not.  You  are  not  pre 
pared  for  the  journey,  and  you  are  not  well  enough  to  under 
take  it.  Excuse  yourself  in  this  way  to  him,  and  take  a  few 
days  for  reflection.  You  cannot  tell  now  what  is  best  for 
you.  I  do  not  think  he  will  object,  if  he  finds  you  desire  to 
be  left  behind." 

There  was  a  slight  tinge  of  sarcasm  in  these  last  words,  and 
Agnes  replied,  quickly, 

"  You  think  he  will  be  glad  to  leave  me  —  that  he  does  not 
want  me  with  him.  Perhaps  you  are  right,  though,  now  that 


EKIENDSHIP     AND     LOVE.  471 

other  hopes  have  failed  him,  it  may  be  he  will  turn  to  me. 
The  mouse  helped  the  lion  once,  you  know." 

"  That  was  in  the  way  of  gratitude,  and  you  have  small 
cause  to  be  grateful  to  him,  you  poor  little  mouse !  "  said 
Evelyn,  pitifully. 

"  I  owe  to  him  some  of  the  happiest  hours  of  my  existence. 
0,  Miss  Chester,  we  were  so  happy  once  !  " 

"  But  think  of  the  hours,  the  months  and  years,  that  have 
passed  since !  "  . 

"  That  might  not  have  been  all  his  fault.  He  was  so  much 
my  superior !  Could  he  help  it,  if  he  wearied  of  me  ?  I  am 
not  intellectual,  and  I  did  not  know  much.  Besides,"  she  has 
tened  to  say,  as  Evelyn  was  about  to  interrupt  her,  "  I  have 
been  thinking  of  another  thing  that  had  something  to  do  with 
it.  While  we  were  in  Spain  he  heard  of  the  birth  of  an  heir 
to  his  uncle's  estate.  He  had  expected  it  would  descend  to 
him,  and  used  to  tell  me  we  would  go  there  and  live,  and  I 
should  be  a  great  lady.  After  that  he  always  seemed  dif 
ferent,  and  grew  cross  and  fretful,  and  said  he  was  poor.  I 
did  not  care ;  I  was  used  to  poverty.  People  can  be  very 
happy,  if  they  are  poor.  But  he  did  not  think  so,  and  soon 
after  that  he  left  me.  If  he  hadn't  been  so  disappointed 
about  that,  I  think  he  would  have  acknowledged  me  as  his 
wife.  0,  Miss  Chester,  he  was  not  evil  from  the  first.  He 
was  tempted,  and  went  astray." 

"  But  what  tempted  him  ?  His  own  bad  passions,  his 
selfishness,  his  coward  fear  of  the  world,  or  rather  of  the 
dissipated  men  and  women  who  made  up  his  world. 


472  AGNES. 

Agnes,  poor  child,  your  compassionate  excuses  would  almost 
make  me  relent  towards  this  man,  if  my  own  experience  did 
not  prove  that,  whatever  he  may  have  been  once,  he  is  now 
thoroughly  selfish  and  cold-hearted.  Forgive  me  —  I  must 
say  it.  My  father  says  there  is  in  some  women  a  perfect 
mania  for  self-sacrifice,  and  I  begin  to  believe  it.  But  you 
shall  not  thus  become  a  victim,  if  I  can  help  it.  What  have 
you  to  hope  for,  if  you  remain  with  him  ?  " 

"  Still,  my  place  is  by  his  side,  and  while  he  bids  me  hold 
that  place  I  may  not  leave  it.  And,  dark  as  you  think  my 
prospects,  I  have  hopes,  —  brighter,  perhaps,  for  the  dark 
ness.  He  says  he  is  very  poor — a  ruined  man."  She 
paused,  and  then  added,  with  a  passionate  burst  of  feeling, 
"  And  I  have  caused  it  —  J  who  loved  him  so  !  " 

"  And  you  love  him  still  — in  spite  of  all,  you  really  love 
him  now  !  "  exclaimed  Evelyn,  with  wonder. 

"  Yes  !  "  she  said.  Then  smiling,  and  kindling  with  enthu 
siasm,  "  I  will  work  for  him  !  He  says  he  shall  be  forsaken  of 
his  companions  —  thrown  into  prison.  O,  then,  I  will  be  near 
him  —  I  will  work  like  a  slave  to  gain  him  money  —  I  will 
make  myself  so  necessary  to  his  comfort  that  he  cannot  but  be 
glad  to  have  me  there.  If  he  were  proud  and  prosperous  as 
he  once  was,  he  might  think  me  a  burden  ;  but  I  shall  be  no 
burden  then,  and  when  the  world  has  cast  us  both  out  shall 
we  not  become  all  in  all  to  each  other  once  more  ?  " 

Evelyn's  proud  heart  revolted  at  such  humility  of  affection. 
It  seemed  to  make  a  bond-slave,  crushed  and  trampled,  of 
that  divine  sentiment  which  should  be  throned  as  queen. 


FRIENDSHIP     AND     LOVE.  473 

"  Poor,  silly  girl,"  she  said,  "  you  are  dreaming.  A 
servant,  laboring  unloved  and  unthanked  —  is  this  the  happi 
ness  you  aspire  to  ?  Believe  me,  the  man  for  whom  you  toil 
will  never  thank  you  for  all  your  sacrifice." 

"You  speak  of  my  husband,  Miss  Chester.  I  have  sworn 
to  love  and  honor  him  till  death  parts  us." 

The  simple  dignity  of  these  words  silenced  Evelyn.  She 
turned  to  the  window,  without  replying.  Agnes  saw  the 
expression  of  her  face,  and,  following,  seized  her  hand  and 
pressed  it  to  her  lips. 

"  You  will  not  urge  me  any  more,  now  you  know  I  am 
decided ;  but  I  thank  you  all  the  same  for  the  interest  that 
made  you  forget.  But,  tell  me,"  she  added,  after  a  pause, 
"  can  you  not  find  in  your  own  bosom  an  excuse  for  what 
you  deem  my  infatuation  ?  "Would  indifference,  would  neglect, 
would  even  wrong  and  sin,  quench  your  love  for  Percy 
Grey?" 

A  faint  blush  passed  over  Evelyn's  face,  and,  after  a  few 
moments  of  thought,  she  answered,  a  little  proudly, 

"  I  could  not  love  unworthily." 

"  But,  suppose  you  had  been  so  unfortunate,  so  deceived, 
would  all  the  love  you  had  felt  die  when  you  discovered  that 
your  idol  was  unworthy  of  its  shrine  ?  Could  you  not  forgive 
and  pity  ?  Could  you  not  love  on,  through  all,  in  spite  of 
all?" 

Evelyn's  eyes  fell,  and  her  stately  head  was  half  turned 
aside,  as  she  replied, 

"  I  cannot  now  conceive  the  feelings  you  express.  From 
40* 


474  AGNES. 

the  man  I  love  I  could  not  forgive  such  wrongs  as  you  have 
Buffered.  If  I  endured  them,  my  heart  would  turn  to  stone." 

"  0,  then,"  cried  Agnes,  "  you  have  never  known  the 
highest  love !  Start  not,  dear  Evelyn,  and  do  not  think  me 
mistaken.  Is  it  not  the  highest  love  —  a  love,  if  I  may  dare 
say  so,  most  like  His  who  died  for  man  —  that  fails  not  in  its 
strength  because  of  ingratitude  and  neglect ;  that  falters  not 
when  its  path  leads  through  dark,  polluted  ways  ;  that  clings 
to  the  sinner  as  he  falls  further  and  further  from  the  bright 
ness  of  truth  and  virtue  —  crying,  and  clinging,  and  sobbing, 
'  I  will  not  give  thee  up '  ?  " 

Her  voice  failed,  and  she  bowed  her  head  on  the  hand  she 
held,  weeping  violently.  Evelyn's  eyes  were  opened  to  a 
new  light,  and,  with  her  proud  nature  chastened  and  subdued, 
she  knelt  beside  her  friend,  clasping  her  arms  around  her, 
and  mingling  her  tears  with  hers. 

"  I  have  something  else  to  tell  you,"  said  Agnes,  at  length. 
Now  that  the  seal  of  silence  was  broken,  it  was  a  relief  to 
pour  out  her  whole  soul. 

"  I  had  a  dream  once,  a  prophetic  dream.  It  has  haunted 
me  ever  since  —  when  I  felt  ready  to  die  it  urged  me  on. 
If  I  leave  him,  he  will  become  wholly  evil  —  only  my  love 
can  save  him." 

"  Do  you  believe  thus  in  dreams  ?  "  said  Evelyn,  thought 
fully,  as  she  paused. 

"  I  believe  in  some  dreams,"  Agnes  replied,  "  and  this  has 
been  so  far  fulfilled  that  I  must  believe  the  rest.  Listen  to 
me,  before  you  smile  at  my  superstition. 


FRIENDSHIP     AND     LOVE.  475 

"We  were  walking  in  a  meadow — Clarence  and  I.  It 
was  bright  with  sunshine  from  a  cloudless  sky ;  it  was  gay 
with  flowers,  and  the  air  was  full  of  bird-music ;  the  most 
exquisite  landscape  was  around  us ;  we  were  happy  —  0,  so 
happy  !  It  was  like  real  life,  it  was  so  beautiful ! 

"  On  we  went  —  talking,  absorbed  in  each  other  —  feeling 
in  our  souls  the  sunshine  and  the  music,  but  seeing  only 
the  dear  face  near  —  at  least,  I  saw  only  him.  At  last 
something  made  me  look  back,  and  I  saw  the  way  closing  up 
behind  us,  narrowing  and  narrowing  as  we  walked  on.  But 
I  was  not  frightened ;  I  did  not  care  to  return ;  I  had  him 
still  with  me,  and  there  were  still  flowers  and  grass  around 
us,  and  blue  skies  overhead.  The  mystic  shutting  of  the 
path  behind  us,  like  the  sides  of  a  vista  closing,  did  not 
trouble  me. 

"  Gradually,  before  I  was  aware,  all  was  changed.  The 
way  grew  barren  and  flinty,  and  rocks,  ever  growing  higher 
and  higher,  arose  on  every  hand.  Then  the  light  of  heaven 
grew  less  brilliant;  the  rocks  changed  to  precipices;  they  hung 
over  on  either  side,  they  leaned  more  and  more,  they  met  — 
the  sky  was  shut  out. 

"  Then  we  would  have  paused  and  gone  back,  but  we  could 
not.  A  power,  like  destiny,  bore  us  on.  We  were  happy  no 
longer ;  we  talked  no  more ;  Clarence  withdrew  his  arm  from 
me,  and  I  walked  passively  beside  him ;  we  dared  not  look  at 
each  other;  we  dared  not  look  forward.  O,  how  dark  and 
doleful  was  the  road,  how  real  was  the  misery  !  —  I  have 
known  since  what  it  meant. 


476  AGNES. 

"At  last  we  stood  by  a  river,  broad  and  deep,  but  the 
further  shore  looked  like  the  meadow  from  which  we  started, 
bright  with  sunshine  and  flowers.  It  looked  like,  and  yet  I 
knew  it  was  not  the  same,  though  I  longed  —  0,  how  intensely 
I  longed  to  go  there !  —  and  a  boat  was  waiting,  as  if  to  take 
us  over.  For  some  time  I  had  lost  the  consciousness  of  my 
husband's  presence;  but  now  again  he  seemed  near,  and  I 
looked  at  him,  about  to  speak,  when  something  struck  me 
dumb  with  terror.  He  was  not  the  same  man  with  whom  I 
had  started  that  sunny  morning  along  the  flowery  path.  0, 
how  fearfully  he  was  changed !  and  yet  I  could  see,  as  it 
were,  a  dim  shadow  of  his  former  self,  through  all  the 
change.  I  threw  myself  upon  his  breast.  He  shook  me  off 
roughly,  and  stepped  into  the  boat.  In  my  despair  I  was 
sinking  down  helplessly,  when  some  one  said  to  me,  '  Go 
after  him  —  do  not  let  him  leave  you  —  do  not  let  him  go. 
None  cross  this  river  but  they  who  have  lost  their  souls.' 

"  0,  the  agony  of  that  moment !  I  gasped,  I  shrieked,  I 
ran  into  the  black,  death-cold  waters  to  seize  the  departing 
boat.  He  struck  my  hands  off;  the  rushing  waves  bore  him 
away.  In  the  struggle  I  awoke." 

"And  did  you  tell  him  your  dream?"  asked  Evelyn, 
impressed  by  the  earnestness  of  the  narration. 

"  I  did  —  it  was  soon  after  we  were  married." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  He  laughed  at  me  for  my  superstition  at  being  frightened 
by  a  dream,  and  then  he  soothed  me  with  kind  words  till  I 


FRIENDSHIP     AND     LOVE.  477 

forgot  it.  But  I  did  not  long  forget.  It  haunted  my  days 
of  gladness,  and  later  I  learned  to  know  its  meaning." 

She  sat  quiet,  and  mused  deeply.  Evelyn's  eyes  were  fixed 
with  wondering  interest  upon  the  slight  figure,  the  wan  face 
beneath  the  drooping,  golden  curls,  the  large  eyes  so  full  of 
patience,  the  helpless,  infantile  mouth,  the  delicate  physique 
of  this  strange  creature,  so  feeble  in  all  things  else,  so  strong 
in  her  love.  As  she  was  studying  this  problem,  Agnes  spoke, 
suddenly,  with  kindling  eyes,  and  cheeks  flushing  into  a  faint 
bloom  at  the  thought. 

"  Have  we  not  passed  the  dark  passage  —  have  we  not 
reached  the  river  ?  Did  he  not  try  to  shake  me  off,  and  have 
I  not  saved  him?  0,  is  there  not  somewhere  for  us,  now, 
a  sunny  shore  on  which  we  may  rest?  Tell  me,  Evelyn,  do 
you  not  believe  my  dream  ?  " 

"  You  are  worthy  of  the  happiness  you  desire,  and  I  am 
sure  I  hope  it  may  be  yours,"  said  Miss  Chester,  evading  the 
question.  "  But,  if  you  are  really  going  away  to-morrow, 
we  must  be  thinking  of  something  beside  dreams.  I  can 
furnish  you  with  the  necessary  equipment  for  travelling ;  for, 
fortunately,  I  have  all  my  wardrobe  with  me.  Don't  object ; 
it  will  be  a  mercy  to  relieve  my  father  of  the  superfluous 
band-boxes.  When  you  reach  New  York,  and  are  supplied 
from  another  source,  you  can  give  these  to  some  poor  person 
for  my  sake." 

"  How  thoughtful  and  kind  of  you !  I  had  forgotten  all 
about  my  clothes." 

"  So  I  supposed ;  but,  fortunately,  you  dreamers  have  the 


478  AGNES. 

faculty  to  interest  some  more  practical  person  to  take  care  of 
you,  and  so,  like  the  lilies  of  the  field,  you  are  clothed." 

"  From  heaven ! "  added  Agnes,  softly,  with  an  upward 
glance. 

"  You  good  little  thing,  how  you  make  me  love  you !  "  said 
Evelyn,  kissing  her.  "  I  wish  there  was  any  hope  we  might 
see  each  other  again.  It  seems  impossible  that  only  last 
night  you  and  I  were  strangers.  How  little  I  knew,  then, 
you  were  the  angel  who  was  to  unlock  my  prison  doors ! 
Agnes,  it  must  be  a  pleasure  to  your  kind  heart  to  know  the 
lasting  happiness  you  have  brought  me.  Your  very  existence 
has  proved  such  a  blessing  to  me,  and  to  others  because  of 
me,  that,  if  you  never  do  any  other  good,  you  may  be  sure  you 
have  not  lived  in  vain." 

Agnes  sailed  gently.  "  I  am  glad  you  are  happy  —  and 
Percy.  I  wish  I  could  see  them  all  once  more  —  they  were 
so  very  patient  and  gentle  with  me,  when  my  spirit  was  so 
bruised  and  broken  that  a  rough  touch  would  have  been 
torture.  0,  if  people  only  knew  the  kindness  it  is,  some 
times,  not  to  ask  questions !  Dear  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grey !  Do 
you  think  I  can  see  them  again  before  we  leave  ?  " 

"  Not  if  you  go  to-morrow,  for  Percy  tells  me  the  detach 
ment  is  to  be  sent  off  before  daylight." 

"  Then  I  shall  not  see  you  again !     0,  Evelyn !  " 

She  threw  herself  into  her  friend's  arms,  in  a  sudden  tremor, 
and  whispered,  "  How  I  dread  the  morrow !  " 

"  Stay  with  us,  then  —  at  least,  until  you  are  stronger." 

"  No,  no,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head,  sadly.  "  I  must  arm 
myself  with  courage,  and  brave  my  fate  alone." 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

THE   SCHEMER   AND   HIS   VICTIM. 

WHEN  Percy  came  to  escort  Evelyn  back  to  the  hotel,  the 
friends  parted  not  without  tears  and  protestations  of  affection, 
and  earnest  messages  of  love  from  Agnes  to  those  she  might 
never  see  again.  Then  the  short  summer  night  passed  all  too 
quickly  for  the  tired  wanderer,  whose  exhausted  frame  had 
yielded  to  a  sleep  so  deep  and  heavy  that  it  scarcely. refreshed 
her,  and  who  woke  with  a  numbness  like  death  on  every  limb, 
in  the  gray  dawn  of  morning,  to  see  the  landlady  standing 
beside  the  bed,  lamp  in  hand,  and  hear  her  say, 

"  Come,  I  reckon  you  '11  have  to  hurry,  if  you  're  goin'. 
That  ere  man  o'  yourn  an't  none  o'  the  patientest." 

"  Is  it  time  ?     Are  they  ready  ?  "  cried  Agnes,  starting  up. 

"  Nigh  about.  You  're  sleepy,  an't  ye  ?  So  be  I.  I  an't 
slep'  a  wink,  hardly,  all  night,  the  baby  was  so  dreffle  trouble 
some.  I  declare,  if  I  ever  have  another,  I  '11  dry-nuss  him ! 
That 's  the  way  the  queen  does,  they  say,  and  I  don't  see  why 
I  an't  as  good  as  the  queen.  You  been  in  England,  —  ever 
you  see  the  queen?  " 

"  I  never  did,"  said  Agnes,  with  little  thought  to  what  she 


480  AGNES. 

was  replying ;  for  she  was  all  in  a  tremble  with  excitement 
at  the  prospect  of  again  meeting  her  husband.  The  woman 
went  on  talking. 

"  Well,  now,  you  better  be  dressin'.  Let  me  help  ye. 
There  is  some  clothes  that  young  man  brought,  arter  you  was 
abed,  down  stairs  in  a  trunk.  He  said  as  how  they  was 
yourn.  Do  you  want  any  on  'em  ?  No  ?  —  Well,  them  ere 
is  good  enough  for  travelling  any  day,  and  save  time,  too,  not 
to  get  the  others.  You  better  hurry  all  you  can,  for  I  see  the 
wagon  a  standin'  up  street  afore  I  come  up  stairs.  I'd  a 
come  before,  only  seems 's  if  I  never  should  get  dressed,  the 
baby  was  so  troublesome.  And,  I  tell  you,  you  better  not 
let  that  man  o'  yourn  have  to  wait  breakfast  for  you.  If  you 
do,  he  '11  flare  up." 

"  I  can  dress  twice  as  soon,  if  you  only  won't  hurry  me," 
said  Agnes,  in  desperation. 

"  I  an't  hurryin'  on  ye,  as  I  knows  on,  only  there  an't  but 
precious  little  time  to  lose,  and  ye  better  be  ready.  I  'm 
goin'  to  give  you  one  more  piece  of  advice,  too,  for  you  don't 
look  as  if 't  would  do  ye  any  harm.  Don't  you  be  too  scared 
o'  that  man  o'  yourn.  These  husbands  is  easy  enough  man 
aged,  if  you  only  let  'em  know  they  can't  have  no  peace  in 
the  house  if  they  don't  let  you  have  your  own  way  I  know'd 
a  woman  that  always  had  fits  —  jest  the  most  nateral  kind  o' 
fits  in  the  world  —  whenever  anything  happened  she  did  n't 
like.  You  couldn't  help  pityin'  of  her,  to  see  her  in  'em. 
It  answered  first  rate.  She  never  had  to  say  nothin'.  The 
fits  always  did  it." 


THE     SCHEMER     AND     HIS     VICTIM.  481 

"I  shouldn't  think  many  husbands  would  endure  such 
discipline  quietly,"  said  Agnes,  amused  in  spite  of  her 
anxiety. 

"  Laws  !  Bless  your  little  silly  heart !  The  men  bluster 
and  make  a  great  talk,  but  they  afl't  got  half  the  spunk  the 
women  has.  Jest  let  'em  see  you've  took  'em  in  hand,  and 
they  '11  give  up  for  the  sake  o'  peace.  They  're  sich  la/y, 
selfish  creturs,  they  '11  do  most  anything  for  the  sake  o'  bein' 
made  comfortable.  So  now  you  jest  stand  up  to  that  man  o' 
yourn,  and  don't  let  him  run  away  and  leave  you  agin.  He 
looked  mighty  like  he  'd  like  to,  when  I  axed  him  should  I 
call  you  to  breakfast." 

The  words  were  not  spoken  unkindly,  but  they  made 
Agnes  shudder. 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a  low  tone. 

"Say?  —  If  his  words  was  money,  he  wouldn't  be  any 
more  afraid  o'  throwin  'em  away  on  me.  No  matter, — there 
an't  no  love  lost  between  us.  He  jest  scowled  and  nodded 
his  head,  same  's  to  say  yes.  Not  but  what  he 's  civil-spoken 
enough,  too,  when  he  does  say  anything." 

At  this  moment  the  distant  sound  of  wheels  startled  them 
both.  The  woman  hurried  down  stairs,  and  Agnes,  when 
relieved  of  her  presence,  could  speedily  finish  her  preparations 
for  departure. 

With  a  palpitating  heart  she  descended  the  stairs  to  the 
kitchen,  where  the  "  troublesome  baby  "  was  testifying  its  in 
herited  disposition,  by  a  vigorous  scratching  and  pulling  at  the 
hair  and  face  of  a  sunburnt,  quiet-looking  man  in  the  chimney- 
41 


482  A  G  N  E  3  . 

corner,  while  the  mother  was  busy  carrying  breakfast  into 
Col.  Stanley's  room.  He  usually  took  his  meals  alone.  On 
this  occasion  the  table  had  been  set  for  two  persons ;  for  his 
hostess  was  very  much  incensed  at  the  neglect  that  his  quiet 
little  wife  had  endured,  and  determined,  as  she  afterwards 
said,  "  he  should  treat  her  decent,  for  once." 

A  position  more  painful  and  embarrassing  than  that  in 
which  Agnes  now  found  herself  could  not  be  imagined,  and 
she  was  heartily  glad  of  the  bustle  and  confusion  in  the 
kitchen,  and  the  resolute  manner  and  shrill  voice  of  the 
woman,  from  whom  otherwise  she  would  have  drawn  back  in 
terror.  But  no  time  was  allowed  for  hesitation. 

"  Mr.  Stanley,  your  wife  's  here.  Come  to  breakfast,  Miss 
Stanley,"  said  the  unrelenting  voice;  and  the  determined 
hands  seized  her  by  both  shoulders,  and  pushed  her  into  the 
room  as  readily  as  if  Agnes  had  been  one  of  the  white-headed 
urchins  who  owned  her  authority. 

Col.  Stanley  detested  "  a  scene,"  especially  before  specta 
tors,  and  he  would  almost  have  received  his  wife  to  his  arms, 
rather  than  unfold  any  of  his  feelings  or  wishes  to  the  curi 
osity  of  that  woman,  whose  presence  he  could  with  difficulty 
tolerate,  so  intense  was  his  dislike  to  her.  His  only  desire 
now  was  to  sustain  Agnes,  whose  agitation  he  read  at  a 
glance,  that  she  might  not  in  any  way  betray  either  herself  or 
him. 

He  rose  from  the  table,  where  he  had  already  taken  a  seat, 
and,  offering  her  a  chair,  inquired  for  her  health  in  a  calm, 
easy  manner,  calculated  to  reassure  without  exciting  her. 


THE     SCHEMER    AND     HIS    VICTIM.  483 

During  their  breakfast,  as  his  servant  and  the  hostess  were 
passing  in  and  out  the  rooms,  he  talked  cheerfully,  without 
seeming  aware  that  Agnes  was  only  pretending  to  eat,  and 
was  incapable  of  answering  him ;  and  when  the  hasty  meal 
was  finished,  asked  her  to  put  on  her  bonnet,  as  the  carriage 
was  waiting. 

Poor  Agnes  !  Poor,  silly  heart !  how  it  misinterpreted 
the  forced  courtesy ;  how  it  beat  with  delight  at  being  re 
ceived  with  as  much  politeness  as  he  would  have  given  to  a 
chance  acquaintance !  There  was  a  flush  of  joy  on  her  cheek, 
and  a  light  in  her  eyes  like  the  light  of  hope,  as  she  reappeared 
in  the  doorway,  where  the  gleam  of  the  brightening  eastern 
sky  shone  full  upon  her. 

One  who  watched  her  from  behind  a  screen  of  lilac-bushes, 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  road,  went  away  with  his  forebod 
ings  quieted  as  the  carriage  drove  from  the  spot;  for  he 
thought  goodness  had  prevailed  over  evil,  and  in  her  own 
way  she  might  be  happy  yet.  She  observed  him  at  the  last 
moment,  and  waved  her  hand  at  him  with  a  pitying  thought, 
and  a  shy,  foolish  glance  at  the  muffled  form  beside  her,  to  see 
if  the  act  were  noticed. 

But  it  was  not  noticed.  If  Agnes  was  present  to  Col. 
Stanley's  mind  at  that  moment,  or  afterwards  during  the  long 
miles  they  traversed  that  weary  day,  it  was  merely  as  all  his 
troubles  were  present,  to  be  thought  over  and  adjusted  as  his 
calculating  brain  could  best  devise.  By  detaining  her  at  his 
side  he  had  kept  his  retreat  from  the  scene  of  conflict  from 
having  the  appearance  of  an  utter  rout,  and  thus  in  some 


484  AGNES. 

measure  saved  his  own  dignity,  and  annoyed  those  whom  he 
considered  as  enemies.  Having  served  his  ends,  she  became 
again  what,  alas !  she  had  long  been,  simply  an  encumbrance. 

His  nature  had  changed  and  hardened  much  since  the  days 
when  youthful  fancy  led  him  to  plan  the  secret  marriage  of 
which  he  so  soon  repented ;  but  the  provident  selfishness  that 
caused  him  to  withhold  all  legal  proofs  of  that  marriage  from 
the  world  and  from  his  bride  was  a  type  of  that  now  working, 
as,  without  one  reference  to  what  Agnes  might  experience,  he 
put  down  the  faint  whispers  of  conscience,  and,  hour  by  hour, 
devised  his  future  course.  The  coolness,  the  steadiness,  with 
which  he  did  so,  showed  how  rapidly  his  feet  had  run  down 
the  steep  declivities  of  vice.  He  could  pause  upon  the  brink 
of  this  precipice,  and  his  brain  did  not  grow  dizzy  as  he  looked 
into  the  gulf  below. 

The  wound  in  Col.  Stanley's  limb  had  so  weakened  it  that 
he  was  not  yet  able  to  ride  on  horseback,  and  the  wagon  had 
been  provided  for  his  accommodation.  Some  others  had 
availed  themselves  of  the  escort  which  accompanied  him  as  a 
safeguard  to  the  British  lines,  and  Mr.  Chester  had  thought 
best  to  send  back  Mrs.  Henderson,  that  she  might  thus  be 
sure  of  returning  unmolested  to  the  city.  All  her  persuasions 
had  failed  to  induce  Jem  to  go  back  to  the  shop,  and,  with  a 
heart  wofully  divided  between  her  money-box  and  her  refrac 
tory  son,  she  had  bidden  him  a  tearful  adieu,  beguiling  the 
way  afterwards  by  wondering  what  the  profits  of  her  grocery- 
ehop  had  been  during  the  four  days  of  her  absence. 

At  Newark  they  were  to  meet  a  detachment  coming  up 


THE     SCHEMER     AND     HIS     VICTIM.  485 

from  Philadelphia,  escorting  a  party  of  officers  and  subalterns, 
who  were  at  this  place  to  be  exchanged  for  a  number  equal 
in  value  of  Americans  taken  prisoners  by  the  British  army. 
Efforts  had  been  made  to  have  Gen.  Lee  included  in  this 
number,  but,  much  to  his  own  vexation  and  the  disappoint 
ment  of  his  friends,  he  was  still  detained  in  New  York. 
Gen.  Washington's  firmness  and  judicious  management  had 
prevented  the  British  from  persisting  in  their  intention  to 
treat  him  as  a  deserter  from  their  ranks,  and  he  was  now 
enjoying  the  rights  of  a  prisoner  of  distinction ;  and  the  value 
set  upon  his  services  was  one  reason  of  his  prolonged  cap 
tivity. 

As  Col.  Stanley  and  his  escort  entered  the  town,  he  aroused 
from  his  revery  at  the  sight  of  familiar  faces,  and  forgot  his 
gloom  when  they  reached  the  hotel,  and  he  recognized  his 
friend  Harcourt  among  those  who  had  brought  the  American 
soldiers  from  New  York. 

In  a  moment  Col.  Harcourt  was  beside  the  wagon,  shaking 
hands  with  a  hearty  pleasure. 

"  Eight  glad  to  see  you  back  again,  my  fine  fellow!"  said 
he.  "  You  look  as  if  they  had  n't  starved  you,  up  there  in 
the  Yankee  camp." 

"  I  can't  complain  on  that  score;  for  provisions  were  easier 
to  be  had  than  appetite,  in  my  case." 

"  That 's  more  than  we  can  say  in  our  quarters.  What 
little  there  was  eatable  in  this  barren  land  the  Yankees  seem 
to  have  gobbled  up." 

"  Why,  then,  did  n't  you  come  and  break  into  their  pan- 
41* 


486  AGNES. 

try  ?  "  said  Col.  Stanley,  who  had  by  this  time  descended  from 
the  wagon,  and  stood  by  his  friend.  "  I  have  been  looking 
for  you  all  winter.  They  had  but  a  handful  of  lanky  scoun 
drels  there,  that  would  n't  have  stood  one  charge,  probably. 
What  in  thunder  has  Gen.  Howe  been  about,  that  he  has  left 
them  there  to  recruit  at  their  leisure  ?  " 

"  Is  it  possible  that  was  the  case  ?  They  've  made  us 
believe  they  were  strongly  posted ;  and  it  would  n't  be  safe 
to  run  the  risk  of  losing  this  province  altogether  by  another 
defeat,  you  know." 

"  Bah !  nothing  venture,  nothing  have,"  exclaimed  Col. 
Stanley,  with  an  oath.  "  You  could  have  routed  the  whole 
rebel  army,  any  time  this  winter,  if  you  had  tried." 

"  Perhaps  so.  But  more  likely,  if  we  'd  driven  them  from 
that  place,  they  'd  gone  to  another.  They  have  the  whole 
back  country  at  command,  and  they  are  good  at  hiding." 

"  And  better  still  at  running  away,"  added  Stanley, 

"  We  '11  try  their  mettle  soon,"  said  Col.  Harcourt. 

"  Do  you  return  to  New  York  ?  "  asked  his  friend. 

"No,  I  go  on  to  Brunswick."  Then,  glancing  at  the 
wagon,  he  added,  in  a  lower  tone,  "  Who  have  you  there?" 

"  A  young  lady  whom  I  have  undertaken  to  protect  as  far 
as  New  York." 

"  She  looks  delicate.     Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  Her  friends  live  near  Morristown,"  was  the  evasive  reply. 
"  I  must  find  her  a  quiet  place  in  the  house  while  we  stay 
here.  The  crowd  about  the  door  grows  thinner,  and  I  think 
she  can  get  in  now."  Then,  bidding  his  servant  drive  up  to 


THE     SCHEMER     AND     HIS     VICTIM.  487 

the  door,  he  followed  and  assisted  Agnes  to  alight,  and,  offer 
ing  his  arm,  led  her  into  the  hotel,  delivering  her  to  the  care 
of  the  landlady,  who  came  at  her  husband'^  call. 

When  he  returned,  Harcourt,  who  had  caught  a  glimpse 
of  Agnes'  face  beneath  her  veil,  said,  laughing, 

"  That  young  lady  is  pretty  enough  to  be  a  rival  to  Miss 
Chester.  If  she  was  only  a  little  more  healthy,  she  'd  be  a 
beauty." 

"  Bah  !  a  milk-and-water  face.  Give  me  an  eye  that  has 
some  fire  in  it !  I  despise  a  blonde !  "  answered  Col.  Stanley, 
with  rather  more  vehemence  than  the  occasion  seemed  to 
demand. 

"  Pardon  !  —  You  lovers  are  so  violent !  "  said  Harcourt. 
"Then  you  are  still  ready  to  swear  by  Miss  Chester's  eye 
brows  ?  Did  you  know  they  have  left  the  city  —  broken  up 
and  sold  out  ?  What 's  the  meaning  of  that  ?  " 

"  That 's  not  much  of  a  riddle.     Can't  you  read  it  ?  " 

"  Not  I.     I  'm  no  ^Edipus." 

"  Neither  is  Miss  Chester  a  Sphinx ;  so  you  need  n't  be 
afraid  of  guessing." 

"  I  leave  that  to  the  Yankees,"  replied  Harcourt,  with  a 
shrug. 

"  Then,  if  you  won't  guess,  I  must  tell  you,"  replied  Col. 
Stanley,  whose  invention  had  meantime  been  busy.  "  My 
wounded  limb  —  which,  by  the  way,  is  the  occasion  of  this 
unmilitary  style  of  travelling  —  will  prevent  me  from  going 
into  active  service  again  at  present,  and  I  must  have  a  fur 
lough,  and  go  home  to  recruit.  Mr.  Chester  will  arrange  hia 


488  AGNES. 

affairs  at  the  Close  so  as  to  accompany  me,  if  possible;  but» 
if  not,  he  will  go  in  the  very  next  ship." 

"  Why  don't  you  wait  for  them  ?  " 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  have  important  private  business 
that  makes  it  necessary  I  should  be  in  London  at  the  earliest 
date  possible,  and  my  shattered  limb  affords  a  good  excuse. 
When  they  arrive  we  shall  be  married.  The  Earl  of  Evans- 
dale  has  taken  a  fancy  to  give  away  the  heiress  himself, 
and  it  is  for  that  reason  we  have  had  so  much  unexpected 
delay." 

"  Heigho  !  you  're  a  lucky  fellow,  Stanley.  I  wish  that 
heaven  had  made  me  such  a  man ! "  replied  Harcourt, 
laughing.  "  I  suppose,  then,  you  saw  the  Chesters  at  Morris- 
town?" 

"0,  yes.  They  hastened  their  departure  when  they  heard 
I  was  to  return  to  the  city,  so  as  to  meet  me,  and  made 
arrangements  that  if  possible  we  might  go  home  at  the  same 
time." 

"  Miss  Chester  has  not  been  into  society  much  this  winter. 
Her  father's  health  has  been  poor.  He  ages  fast  for  a  man 
of  his  years,  I  think." 

"  I  did  not  notice.  Do  you  go  to  Brunswick  immediately  ?  " 
asked  Stanley,  who,  for  reasons  of  his  own,  was  willing  to 
change  the  topic  of  conversation. 

"  Yes.  I%n  off  as  soon  as  we  have  finished  this  business. 
What  can  that  blundering  '  rebel  sojer '  be  doing,  that  he 
don't  expedite  matters  ?  " 

"  No  wonder  he  don't  hurry.     They  send  us  back  hearty 


THE     SCHEMER     AND     HIS     VICTIM.  489 

looking  soldiers,  ready  for  a  fight,  and  get  in  return  a  parcel 
of  men  who  '11  scatter  home  to  look  after  their  families, 
because  their  term  of  service  has  expired.  It  is  n't  strange 
he 's  rather  slow  to  make  the  exchange.  However,  there  he 
is,  coming,  and  so  one  word  more  before  we  part.  I  shall 
send  my  servant  from  here  to  Brunswick  to  fetch  me  a  valua 
ble  horse  I  left  there,  as  we  went  on  to  Trenton,  last  fall.  I 
wish  you  'd  look  after  the  fellow  a  little.  He 's  a  jewel  in 
his  way,  but  he  has  two  little  failings.  He  will  lie,  and  he 
will  get  drunk.  The  first  is  more  annoying  to  me  than  to 
the  horse,  but  the  latter  might  be  of  consequence." 

Col.  Harcourt  promised  to  attend  to  the  matter,  and  they 
parted  with  mutual  assurances  of  good  will.  As  his  friend 
walked  away,  Col.  Stanley's  smile  of  friendship  changed  to 
one  of  self-gratulation,  and  he  muttered  to  himself, 

"  I  fancy  I  did  that  well !  At  any  rate,  I  'm  lucky  not  to 
have  any  spies  about  me,  the  rest  of  the  way  to  York.  Cour 
age  !  Fortune  favors  the  brave !  It  might  have  been  awk 
ward  if  Harcourt  was  going  back  just  now." 

The  formalities  attending  an  exchange  of  prisoners  were 
soon  despatched.  The  party  proceeding  to  New  York  were 
to  be  ferried  across  the  river  from  a  point  near  Bergen. 
Here  the  Americans  had  disembarked,  and  the  boats  remained 
in  waiting.  The  file  of  soldiers  soon  marched  towards  the 
spot,  which  was  but  a  few  miles  distant ;  but  Col.  Stanley 
found  some  difficulty  in  procuring  conveyance  for  himself  and 
Agnes.  As  they  were  now  within  the  British  lines,  he  was 
thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  and  all  the  horses  in  town  had 


490  A  Q  N  E  S . 

been  seized,  a  few  days  before,  for  the  transportation  of  mili 
tary  stores.  The  wagon  that  brought  Mrs.  Henderson  and 
others  who  accompanied  the  cortege  had  returned  to  Morris- 
town,  leaving  its  passengers  to  walk  the  remainder  of  the  way 
to  the  river. 

At  first  Col.  Stanley  was  disposed  to  think  this  also  a  for 
tunate  circumstance,  affording  him  a  pretext  for  leaving 
Agnes  behind ;  but,  upon  reflection,  he  decided  it  would  not 
be  best  to  leave  her,  with  her  fears  and  suspicions  roused  by 
past  events,  in  a  place  where  she  might  so  easily,  by  relating 
her  story,  make  that  expose  of  his  affairs  which  he  was  now 
more  than  ever  desirous  to  avoid.  While  he  was  in  this  per 
plexity,  a  farmer  who  lived  near  the  river  drove  into  the  inn- 
yard.  He  had  been  a  short  distance  west  of  Newark,  and 
was  about  returning  home.  His  vehicle  was  nothing  but  a 
common  farm-cart  covered  with  white  cloth,  but  it  sufficed 
for  the  occasion,  and  Col.  Stanley  gladly  engaged  the  man  to 
carry  Agnes  and  himself  to. the  ferry. 

Having  made  this  arrangement,  he  stepped  into  the  bar 
room,  and,  taking  the  landlord  aside,  asked  the  character  of 
the  person  with  whom  he  was  about  to  ride. 

"  He  ish  von  bery  goot  fellar,"  replied  the  little  Dutchman, 
with  an  emphatic  whiff  of  his  short  pipe.  "  He  can  trink 
more  peer  as  any  other  man  in  dish  country,  an'  pay  de 
schore  when  he  ish  done." 

"Then  he  is  not  a  poor  man,"  said  Stanley,  with  a  dis« 
appointed  tone. 

"  He  ish  never  so  poor  dat  he  ish  not  thirsty." 


THE     SCHEMER     AND     HIS     VICTIM.  491 

"  Then  he  knows  the  taste  of  all  the  property  he  has,  I 
suppose  ?  "  was  the  careless  rejoinder. 

"Why,  no.  He  ish  trank  up  de  house,  but  he  ish  not 
trank  up  de  farm  yet." 

The  entrance  of  the  farmer  at  this  moment  interrupted 
further  inquiry;  but,  after  watching  him  a  few  moments,  as 
he  took  the  usual  dram  before  starting  on  the  drive,  Col. 
Stanley  followed  him  to  the  yard,  and,  as  he  gave  some  last 
fastenings  to  the  nondescript  harness  of  leather  and  rope  that 
secured  horse  and  cart  together,  asked  him,  cautiously,  after 
some  preliminary  remarks, 

"  Could  you  take  a  young  lady  to  board  at  your  house,  for 
a  few  weeks,  if  you  were  well  paid  for  it?  " 

"  Dat  depends  upon  what  mine  old  woman  say,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  The  truth  is,  my  friend,"  said  Stanley,  with  well-affected 
frankness,  "  I  have  no  time  to  go  to  your  house  and  see  your 
wife  about  it,  for  the  boats  will  have  to  wait  for  us  if  we  go 
straight  to  the  ferry,  and  you  say  you  live  off  the  road  a 
little." 

"  Fetter  as  half  a  mile,"  said  the  farmer,  with  a  suspicious 
twinkle  in  his  small  eyes. 

"  So  I  thought.  You  see  I  have  no  time  to  go  there ;  and 
yet  I  shall  consider  it  a  great  favor  if  you  will  take  the 
young  lady  there,  and  I  will  pay  you  well  for  it." 

"  Dat  ish  a  consideration,"  said  the  farmer,  slowly.  "  Put 
who  ish  she?  Mine  old  woman  an'  de  girls  ish  respectable." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  said  Stanley,  as  if  shocked  at  this 


492  AGNES. 

implication.  "  I  have  been  inquiring  about  your  family,  and 
the  landlord,  in  there,  gives  them  the  highest  character.  It 
is  for  that  very  reason  I  wish  to  place  the  lady  with  you 
until  I  can  provide  some  other  shelter  for  her.  A  quiet 
home,  such  as  she  would  have  in  your  house,  is  much  better 
for  her  than  to  be  left  here,  in  a  public  tavern." 

"  Put  who  is  she,  and  how  come  she  here  ?  " 

"  She  is,  to  tell  the  truth,  a  little  insane.  Not  violently 
so,  but  she  requires  to  be  watched  and  taken  care  of;  and 
that  is  one  reason  why  I  don't  want  to  leave  her  here.  You 
are  not  afraid  of  insane  persons,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Not  if  dey  ish  not  wild." 

"  0,  she  is  never  wild.  In  fact,  she  is  only  insane  upon 
one  point,  and  that  has  reference  to  myself.  She  is  very 
well  connected  in  England,  and  was  married  to  a  friend  of 
mine,  —  a  very  intimate  friend,  —  in  fact,  we  were  always  to 
gether;  and  that,  perhaps,  was  the  reason  why,  when  her 
husband  was  shot  in  a  duel,  and  she  went  crazy  about  it,  she 
should  fancy  I  was  her  husband.  However  that  may  be,  the 
insanity  took  that  turn.  I  carried  her  to  her  friends,  —  it 
was  in  Spain  her  husband  died,  —  and  left  her,  when  we  were 
ordered  here.  She  was  so  calm  and  gentle  that  they  never  con 
fined  her,  and  she  managed  to  slip  away  from  them  and  follow 
me  over  here.  I  was  not  in  New  York  when  the  ship  arrived, 
and  she  followed  me  into  the  country,  and  there  she  got  lost, 
as  it  was  natural  she  should.  Some  good-natured  farmers 
took  her  in  and  took  care  of  her.  I  found  her  up  there  in 
the  woods,  and  now  I  must  get  her  back  to  her  friends  in  Eng- 


THE     SCHEMER     AND    HIS     VICTIM.  493 

land ;  but  you  see  it  will  be  very  embarrassing  and  trouble 
some  to  take  her  to  New  York.  If  you  will  keep  her  a  few 
weeks,  until  a  ship  is  ready  to  return  home,  I  will  pay  you 
any  board  you  may  think  proper,  and  give  you  this  to  clinch, 
the  bargain." 

The  farmer's  phlegmatic  face  never  changed  a  muscle, 
whatever  he  might  think,  and  he  only  replied, 

"  Dat  ish  a  great  story,  put  de  money  ish  goot.  How 
shall  I  know  you  vill  come  pack  to  fotch  her,  and  pay  de 
poard?" 

"  You  may  come  over  to  the  city  every  week,  if  you 
choose,  and  I  will  pay  you.  Indeed,  I  wish  you  would.  I 
will  pay  you  extra  for  your  trouble  in  coming,  as  I  shall  wish 
to  hear  from  her ;  but  it  is  better  I  should  not  see  her  often, 
as  she  gets  excited  when  she  sees  me." 

"  Dat  ish  very  goot.  I  vill  take  her,  and  mine  old  woman 
vill  keep  her  safe,"  said  the  farmer,  pocketing  the  gold. 

"Very  well.  You  needn't  be  surprised  if  she  makes 
some  resistance,  at  first,  when  she  finds  she  is  not  going  with 
me.  It  will  not  last  long." 

"  If  she  pe  wild  crazy,  I  can  tie  her,  and  mine  old  woman 
vill  peat  her,"  said  the  farmer,  with  stolid  composure. 

Alas !  no  milder  treatment  for  maniacs  had  been  thought 
of  at  that  time.  Stanley  knew  he  was  in  earnest,  and,  really 
shocked  at  the  suggestion,  he  half  repented  of  his  scheme. 

"  Don't  on  any  account  do  such  a  thing !  If  you  do,  I 
won't  pay  you  a  cent,"  he  exclaimed,  earnestly.  "  She  will 
not  be  wild.  She  will  only  moan  and  cry.  Let  her  do  just 
42 


494  AGNES. 

as  she  pleases,  and  treat  her  like  a  lady,  for  she  is  one ;  only 
don't  let  her  go  away  from  the  farm.  And  if  she  insists 
upon  doing  so,  you  can  keep  her  shut  up  in  a  room  until  you 
can  come  and  tell  me.  It  may  not  be  more  than  a  week  or 
two  before  I  can  send  her  to  England." 

"  Dat  ish  goot.  I  vill  not  peat  her,  put  mine  old  woman 
vill  keep  her  safe,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

"  Then  bring  your  cart  round  to  the  door,  and  I  will  go 
get  her,"  said  Col.  Stanley,  and  went  into  the  house  to  find 
Agnes. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

DELIVEBANCE    FBOlf   EVIL. 

IT  was  near  sunset  when  they  left  the  flourishing  village  of 
Newark,  and  drove,  as  rapidly  as  a  stout  horse  could  carry 
them,  along  the  sandy  road  leading  to  the  river.  The  bright 
promise  of  the  morning  had  been  lost  in  clouds,  that  gathered 
thicker  and  thicker,  and  lowered  gloomily,  as  the  day  waned. 
Now  a  strong  east  wind  was  rising,  bringing  the  salt,  cool 
smell  of  the  ocean  over  the  low  shores,  and  wailing,  with  a 
sound  like  human  voices,  through  the  groves  of  stunted  pine. 

Col.  Stanley  and  the  farmer  sat  on  a  board  placed  across 
the  front  of  the  cart,  and  Agnes  reclined  on  some  clean  straw 
spread  for  her  behind  them.  The  road  was  intolerably  rough, 
and,  as  they  went  through  the  swamp,  they  had  several 
narrow  escapes  from  being  capsized ;  but  the  farmer  urged  his 
horse  as  if  he  thought  all  human  frames  had  the  immobility 
of  his  own  temperament,  and  Col.  Stanley  was  too  anxious  to 
check  him.  Agnes  made  no  complaint,  although,  at  times,  it 
appeared  to  her  that  she  should  faint  from  weariness,  at  the 
incessant  jolting  of  the  springless  boards  on  which  she  lay. 

When  they  reached  the  ford  of  the  Hackensack  River,  her 


496  AGNES. 

companions  noticed  her  extreme  paleness,  and,  apprehensive 
that  a  fainting-fit  might  delay  him  still  further,  Col.  Stan 
ley  turned  himself  around  in  the  cart,  raised  her,  and  sup 
ported  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Are  you  ill?  "  he  asked,  with  a  tone  of  anxiety,  in  which 
Agnes  fancied  she  detected  something  of  tenderness. 

"  0,  no  —  not  ill  —  only  very  tired  —  but  I  shall  be  better 
now,"  she  answered,  with  a  gush  of  delicious  joy  overflowing 
her  heart;  and  she  closed  her  eyes,  and  laid  her  head  back  on 
his  breast,  thanking  God  that,  at  last,  she  had  gained  the 
resting-place  she  had  sought  so  painfully. 

Poor  Agnes !  poor  tender  heart !  she  should  have  died  then. 
That  moment  would  have  repaid  her  for  the  griefs  of  years. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  ford  they  passed  Mrs.  Hen 
derson  and  her  fellow-pedestrians,  and,  after  an  hour's  hard 
jolting,  arrived  at  the  river.  Just  where  a  turn  in  the  road 
brought  them  to  the  top  of  the  high  bank  sloping  down  to 
the  water,  a  farm-house  was  prettily  located.  It  had  an 
extensive  orchard,  now  in  full  blossom,  along  one  side  of 
which  a  lane  led  down  to  the  ferry.  In  consequence  of  the 
rising  storm,  all  the  boats  had  left  when  the  soldiers  arrived, 
except  the  one  which  waited  for  its  laggard  passengers ;  and 
the  dark,  tossing  waves  of  the  river,  with  the  ominous  scowl 
of  the  heavens,  admonished  them  that  there  was  no  time  to 
be  lost,  if  they  would  accomplish  the  ferriage  in  safety. 

The  farmer  drove  part  way  down  the  lane,  and  there 
stopped. 

"  De  pank  ish  so  steep  I  vill  not  go  town  any  more,"  he 


DELIVERANCE     1'KOM     EVIL.  497 

Bald;  and,  as  Col.  Stanley  descended  from  the  cart,  he 
added,  "Do  dish  jung  voman  know  she  may  go  with  me?" 

Agnes  half  heard  the  words,  and,  with  one  spring,  she  was 
standing  upon  the  ground  beside  her  husband,  and  looking  at 
him,  with  white  face,  and  eager  eyes,  and  pallid,  quivering 
lips,  that  had  no  power  to  ask  what  the  direful  question 
meant. 

Col.  Stanley  looked  at  her  a  moment  with  a  sort  of  pity, 
as  one  regards  an  insect  one  has  crushed.  Then  he  said,  very 
calmly, 

"  Yes,  Agnes,  you  are  to  board  a  few  weeks  with  this  man. 
He  has  a  wife  and  children,  and  you  will  be  very  comfortable 
there.  When  I  have  made  arrangements  to  leave  this  coun 
try  for  home,  I  will  come  and  take  you  away." 

Her  ears  scarcely  heard  his  words,  for  there  was  a  surging, 
ringing  noise  within  her  brain,  like  the  tolling  of  a  death- 
bell  ;  but  she  read  their  meaning  in  his  face,  and  shrieked  out, 

"  You  cannot  be  so  cruel !  What,  leave  me  with  this 
man  !  Leave  me  here  alone !  If  you  were  going  to  desert 
me,  why,  then,  did  you  take  me  from  my  friends  ?  " 

"  Hush !  "  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  full  of  authority.  "  You 
only  injure  yourself  by  this  noise.  You  will  attract  the 
people  in  the  house  yonder." 

"  What  if  I  do  ?  Have  you  no  pity  ?  And  I  thought  you 
had  forgiven  me  —  I  thought  you  would  love  me  again  !  0, 
Clarence !  0,  my  husband  !  for  mercy  sake  do  not  desert  me 
now ! " 

He  seized  her,  with  a  grasp  like  iron,  and  drew  her  a  little 
42* 


498  AGNES. 

aside  from  the  place  where  the  farmer  was  busy  backing  and 
turning  his  cart.  Then,  placing  her  so  that  his  eyes,  with 
their  powerful  magnetism,  held  hers,  and  compelled  her  to 
listen  quietly,  he  said,  in  a  stern,  bitter  tone, 

"  Will  you  hear  me  ?  If  you  will  go  with  this  farmer  and 
make  no  fuss,  I  will  return  in  a  few  weeks  and  take  you  with 
me  —  somewhere  —  I  cannot  promise  where,  for  you  have 
ruined  me,  and  my  next  lodging  may  be  a  jail.  But,  if  you 
resist  me  now,  I  will  leave  you  here,  in  spite  of  all  your 
struggles,  and  I  swear  you  shall  never  see  my  face  again." 

He  paused.  She  made  no  reply.  Her  head  drooped  a 
little,  and  he  felt  her  frame  relax,  and  grow  heavy  in  his  rigid 
grasp.  He  lifted  her  from  the  ground,  laid  her  into  the  cart, 
and  walked  swiftly  down  the  lane. 

The  farmer  proceeded  up  the  bank,  but  halted  when  he 
reached  the  top,  and,  after  a  moment's  deliberation,  and  a 
dubious  glance  at  the  motionless  figure  upon  the  straw,  went 
into  the  farm-house,  in  front  of  which  a  swinging  sign-post 
indicated  the  bar-room  within,  for  the  refreshment  of  trav 
ellers. 

When  he  had  gone  Agnes  lifted  up  her  head,  and,  with  a 
bewildered  air,  like  one  awakening  from  a  dream,  she  looked 
around.  No  human  being  was  in  sight,  except  the  few 
figures  seated  in  the  boat,  that  tossed  at  its  mooring  at  the 
foot  of  the  lane.  On  one  side  was  the  house ;  on  the  other, 
the  black,  half-burned  stumps  of  the  clearing,  and  a  copse  of 
pines  that  skirted  the  orchard.  Twilight  was  glooming  over 
the  landscape.  From  the  tangled  northern  forest,  where  the 


DELIVERANCE      FROM      EVIL.  499 

Indian  war-whoop  rang,  came  down  the  dark  river,  the 
mighty  river,  heaving  its  crested  and  turbulent  waves,  and 
murmuring  hoarsely,  with  the  many  voices  of  its  tides  and 
currents,  hurrying  on  to  meet  the  storm-wind  from  the  ocean, 
and  join  in  the  mad  revel  of  the  elements.  Far  off  through 
the  gathering  mist  the  opposite  shore  was  visible,  and  as 
Agnes  looked  across  she  thought  of  her  prophetic  dream. 
"  It  is  the  river,"  she  whispered.  "  It  is  the  deep  river  — 
the  mystic  river  !  It  is  the  river  of  death." 

With  the  thought  came  a  sudden  impulse.  She  slipped  out 
at  the  back  of  the  cart,  and,  with  outspread  arms,  and  light 
steps  that  hardly  touched  the  ground,  she  fled  down  the  hill. 

Col.  Stanley  saw  her  coming.  When  he  reached  the  boat 
he  had  bidden  the  ferryman  push  off;  but  he,  expecting  other 
passengers  in  a  few  moments,  objected  to  doing  so  imme 
diately.  Now  Col.  Stanley  peremptorily  repeated  the  com 
mand. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  the  others  will  be  here  in  a  minute," 
said  the  man,  hesitating. 

"  Do  as  I  bid  you  —  the  storm  is  rising.  It  is  not  safe  to 
stay  longer." 

"  0,  the  boat  is  stanch  and  strong." 

"  Do  as  I  bid  you  !  —  don't  you  know  my  rank  ?  I  '11 
have  her  seized,  if  you  disobey !  "  exclaimed  Col.  Stanley, 
casting  off  the  rope  that  moored  her  to  the  little  wharf,  and 
seizing  the  tiller  to  put  her  about.  She  had  gone  twice  her 
length  from  the  shore,  when  Agnes'  feet  touched  the  brink 
of  the  salt,  chilling  waves. 


500  AGNES. 

"  Take  me  with  you ! "  she  cried,  wildly,  clasping  her  hands 
"  Come  back,  and  take  me  with  you  !  There  are  bad  angels  in 
the  boat.  If  you  cross  the  river  alone,  you  are  lost  forever. 
Clarence,  my  love,  my  husband !  Come  back  to  me  !  " 

A  scornful,  mocking  laugh  was  the  only  reply,  and  the 
boat  darted  away  before  the  wind. 

A  short  time  longer  she  stood  there,  uttering  incoherent 
words,  the  cries  of  a  fevered  brain,  her  dishevelled  hair 
streaming  out  on  the  blast,  her  fluttering  garments  and 
frantic  gestures  making  her  seem  like  some  angry  spirit  of 
the  tempest,  casting  a  spell  upon  the  waters.  Then  the  life- 
tide  surging  to  her  heart  convulsed  her  with  a  spasm  of  agony 
so  keen,  that  she  became  sensible  of  it  even  amid  that  delirium 
of  mental  anguish,  and  threw  herself  upon  the  grassy  bank, 
gasping  and  writhing. 

This  passed  away  soon,  and  faintness  succeeded.  She  lay 
quite  still,  like  one  dead,  and  the  peach-blossoms,  shaken  off 
the  swaying  branches,  fluttered  down  like  snow-flakes  to  bury 
her.  They  whitened  all  her  robe,  they  touched  the  icy  hands, 
and  the  faded  cheek,  over  which  now  the  long  lashes  rested 
quietly.  She  felt  not  the  touch.  She  heard  not  the  com 
plaining  sweep  of  the  river,  or  the  shriek  of  the  coming 
storm.  Her  soul  had  flown  far  away.  She  heard  low  love- 
toned  voices ;  she  saw  faces  from  which  the  light  of  beauty 
and  life  had  faded  years  ago ;  she  was  clasped  to  a  warm, 
maternal  bosom,  over  which  for  many  summers  the  grass  had 
•  grown  long  and  died. 

Scene  after  scene  of  her  early  life  passed  before  her.     The 


DELIVEUANCE     FROM      EVIL.  501 

calm  Derwentwater  spread  itself  in  her  vision,  with  the  silver 
mists  coming  and  going  over  its  peaked  and  splintered  moun 
tains,  and  the  graceful  outline  of  its  shores,  now  swelling  into 
tree-crowned  knolls,  and  anon  sinking  to  green  pastoral  mar 
gins,  where  the  wild  deer  came  to  drink,  half-startled  at  the 
antlered  image  that  met  him  out  of  the  translucent  depths. 

Then  towns  and  cities  passed  along.  She  trod  quaint  old 
streets,  where  men  of  many  nations  walked  to  and  fro ;  she 
wandered  through  palaces  rich  with  gems  of  art;  she  heard 
the  jargon  of  languages  foreign  to  English  ears.  These 
vanished,  and  she  was  one  of  a  cavalcade  riding  fast  at  close 
of  day  through  a  lonely  valley,  and  up  steep  mountain  defiles, 
to  a  hamlet,  perched  like  an  eagle's  nest  upon  a  cliff.  Again 
she  lived  the  simple  life  of  a  peasant,  but  it  was  not  the  care 
less  life  her  childhood  knew  by  the  shores  of  Derwentwater. 
A  vague  unrest  troubled  her.  She  sought  in  vain  among  the 
rocky  crags  for  the  form  that  until  then  had  been  ever  by 
her  side,  the  face  which  had  made  strange  spots  familiar,  and 
invested  dull  places  with  the  radiance  of  home  and  love. 
Could  she  bear  to  lose  it  ?  Could  she  let  it  go  ? 

She  strove  to  call  after  it —  to  cry,  to  shriek  aloud  ;  but 
her  stiffened  lips  only  murmured  faintly  the  beloved  name. 
Again  and  again,  with  desperate  struggles,  she  strove  to  speak ; 
and  now  a  strange  voice  replied.  Rough  but  kindly  hands 
raised  her  from  the  ground,  and,  with  busy  care,  forced  back 
the  fleeting  life. 

It  was  Mrs.  Henderson,  who  had  found  her  there,  and  now 
held  her,  chafing  her  hands,  and  pressing  her  close  to  her  own 


502  AGNES. 

broad  bosom,  hoping  to  impart  some  of  its  vital  warmth, 
while  others  of  the  party  went  back  to  get  the  cart,  that 
Agnes  might  be  laid  in  it  and  conveyed  to  the  house.  The 
farmer  had  found  the  liquor  so  good  he  was  loth  to  leave 
it,  and  his  potations  would  probably  have  ended  in  drunken 
ness,  had  he  not  been  aroused  by  seeing  some  one  turning  his 
horse's  head,  and  leading  him  down  the  lane. 

He  followed,  and,  as  they  reached  the  spot  where  Agnes 
lay,  overtook  the  man  who  had  the  nobler  brute  in  charge. 

"  What  pe  you  doin'  vith  my  cart,  an'  where  ish  de  Jung 
girl  ?  I  ish  to  take  care  of  her,  put  I  ish  not  to  tie  her,  an' 
my  old  voman  ish  not  to  peat  her,  and  he  ish  to  pay  me." 

"  You  get  out !  "  said  Mrs.  Henderson,  with  honest  indig 
nation.  "Who  you  talkin'  'bout?  Is  that  ere  the  bargin 
he  made  with  you  —  leavin'  this  delicate  little  woman  for  you 
to  abuse,  and  she  been  all  winter  lost  among  the  Injines,  and 
he  a  pretendin'  to  be  a  fightin'  the  king's  battles  —  the  scoun 
drel  !  That 's  what 's  killed  her !  It 's  clean  murder,  and 
I  '11  tell  the  old  Squire,  and  he  '11  have  the  law  of  him,  if 
there 's  law  in  the  land." 

Agnes  had  regained  full  consciousness,  and  these  words 
recalled  the  memory  of  the  last  bitter  hour ;  but  memory  was 
no  longer  woe. 

There  is  a  wonderful  mercy  in  the  fact  that  the  anguish, 
the  burden  of  human  affection,  so  seldom  disturb  the  dying. 
The  dulled  nerves  lose  their  power  to  thrill,  the  numbing 
heart  feels  no  throb  of  pain.  The  earthly  dies  out,  while  the 


DELIVERANCE     FROM     EVIL.  503 

heavenly  puts  on  its  immortal  strength,  and  love  becomes  for 
a  brief  space  what  it  would  have  been  had  there  been  no  sin. 

In  a  blissful,  painless  trance  she  had  lain,  hearing  their 
words  unmoved.  Would  aught  ever  move  her  more?  Ah, 
she  had  ceased  to  suffer,  but  the  heart's  feeble  pulses  still 
beat  true  to  the  one  emotion  which  had  ruled  her  life ;  and, 
as  the  strong  expressions  uttered  around  her  suggested  the 
idea  of  danger  to  her  beloved,  she  roused  herself  by  a  mighty 
effort  for  one  last  word,  faintly  spoken,  but  earnest,  and  full 
of  pathetic  power. 

"  Do  not  blame  him  —  do  not  harm  him !  He  thought  it 
was  best  I  should  stay.  He  knew  I  wished  to  die.  Indeed, 
it  is  better  so.  I  am  very  glad.  I  shall  never  trouble  him 
again ! " 

A  smile  like  an  angel's  stole  up  from  the  pale  lips,  and 
brightened  all  her  face;  an  instant  the  eyelids  quivered  over 
the  glazing  eyes,  quivered  and  fell  slowly,  till  they  touched 
the  wan  and  wasted  cheek.  They  never  rose  again. 

Still  the  black  river  hurried  on,  with  the  hoarse  roar  of  its 
conflicting  tides,  and  its  overhanging  trees  glooming  defiance 
to  the  white  wrath  of  the  storm ;  still  the  blast  moaned  and 
shrieked,  dying  to  a  low  wail  around  the  copse  of  spruce- 
trees,  and  rising  to  a  scream  as  it  swept  on  to  the  distant 
forest.  But  they  who  covered  the  face  of  the  dead  uttered 
not  a  word. 


CHAPTEK    XXX. 

RECOMPENSE   AND   RETRIBUTION. 

AGNES  was  dead !  and  it  is  fitting  that  with  the  close  of  he? 
sad  life  our  tale  should  end. 

Of  the  happiness  enjoyed  by  Percy  Grey  and  Evelyn  it 
would  be  vain  to  tell.  Those  calm,  strong  hearts,  that  could 
meet  the  shock  of  fate  undaunted,  appreciated  in  its  fullest 
intensity  the  serene  domestic  life  succeeding,  and  the 

"  Sober  certainty  of  waking  bliss." 

Years  after  the  scenes  we  have  described,  when,  by  long 
union,  their  hearts  had  grown  together,  as  they  looked  back 
upon  their  time  of  trial  they  smiled  at  their  own  ignorance  in 
imagining  then  that  they  could  endure  to  live  apart.  Taught 
by  joy  to  know  more  truly  what  suffering  would  have  been, 
they  shrank  from  the  thought  of  what  they  had  escaped  more 
violently  than  they  did  from  the  expectation  of  enduring  it. 
Yet  the  firmness  of  principle,  the  strength  of  motive,  which 
sustained  them  then,  they  bore  always  through  the  journey 
of  life. 

Mr.  Chester,  whose  tenderness  for  his  daughter  had  grown 


RECOMPENSE     AND     RETKIBUTION.  505 

into  idolatry,  died  before  the  close  of  the  war ;  and  this  was 
the  only  keen  sorrow  Evelyn  endured  for  many  years.  After 
his  death,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grey  were  persuaded  to  leave  the 
Valley  Farm,  and  take  up  their  abode  at  Chester  Close.  The 
dear  mother,  with  her  gentle  helpfulness,  her  pure,  placid 
face,  and  her  low-toned  "  thee  "  and  "  thine,"  seemed  like  the 
guardian  angel  of  the  household.  The  old  farmer,  rejoicing 
in  the  broad  lands  he  superintended  without  toil,  dandled  his 
grandchildren  on  his  knees,  and  told  long  stories  of  genera 
tions  passed  away.  One  girl,  with  drooping,  golden  curls, 
and  eyes  whose  darkness  was  soft  as  heaven's  own  blue,  came 
oftenest  to  his  side,  and  lingered  longest  there.  Grandpapa's 
pet  bore  the  name  henceforth  sacred  in  that  family,  as  the 
names  of  the  dead  are  sacred  ;  and  he  was  frequently  heard 
to  declare, 

"  Arter  all,  't  was  extraord'nary  how  much  there  was  in  a 
name.  It  beat  all  he  ever  see  in  this  world,  how  much  that 
child  looked  like  Agnes." 

Sanoso  sat  by  her  cabin  fire,  in  the  pleasant  valley,  until 
"  Angloagan  "  came  in  at  the  door.  Tamaque  was  killed  in 
battle. 

No  one  of  those  most  interested  in  Lawontica  ever  heard 
of  her  again.  Upon  one  occasion  Percy  heard  a  mis 
sionary,  who  had  labored  at  Schonburn,  tell  of  an  Indian 
woman,  haughty,  silent,  and  reserved,  who  lived  in  that 
village,  and  received  his  instructions  with  an  eagerness  and 
intelligence  beyond  the  usual  capacity  of  the  tribe.  But  she 
bore  another  name,  and  he  never  knew  if  it  was  the  girl  he 
43 


506  AGNES. 

had  known  so  well,  or  whether,  weary  and  hopeless,  she  had 
indeed  flung  away  the  life  she  considered  so  worthless,  as 
an  ill-fitting  garment,  to  be  replaced  by  another  she  should 
receive  from  the  hands  of  the  Great  Spirit. 

The  retribution  that  follows  evil  deeds,  the  sword  that 
delays  to  smite  until  the  most  vulnerable  part  is  exposed, 
—  when  did  it  overtake  Col.  Stanley  ? 

Ah  !  somewhere  in  the  course  of  this  mysterious  existence, 
which  embraces  two  worlds,  will  God  justify  his  dealings  with 
men ;  and  we  shall  know  that  in  each  case,  where  the  riddle 
seemed  too  dark  to  read,  the  wicked  did  not  go  unpunished. 
Yet  no  human  vision  saw  the  first  stroke  of  vengeance,  in  this 
case,  fall  upon  the  guilty. 

He  heard  of  Agnes'  death  from  Mrs.  Henderson,  mitigated 
her  indignation  by  plausible  pretexts,  and  sealed  her  lips  with 
broad  pieces  of  gold.  Not  without  a  pang  of  remorse  did  he 
look  upon  that  dead  face,  and  help  to  lay  the  wasted  form  in 
its  quiet  bed  beneath  the  orchard-trees  at  Bergen.  But  this 
soon  passed,  and  was  succeeded  by  an  abiding  sense  of  relief 
at  being  rid  of  his  greatest  perplexity. 

His  designs  upon  Evelyn  were  of  course  given  up,  but  he 
was  determined  to  continue  with  his  regiment,  living  upon 
the  reputation  of  being  about  to  marry  an  heiress,  and  the 
profits  of  the  gaming-table.  None  could  read  in  his  careless 
exterior  the  secret  cares  pressing  upon  him  more  and  more 
heavily  every  day,  as  his  creditors  grew  clamorous.  His 
health  and  strength  being  reestablished  after  a  few  weeks,  he 
was  about  to  rejoin  the  army,  when  one  evening  he  entered  his 


RECOMPENSE     AND    RETRIBUTION.  507 

room  and  sat  down  to  examine  letters  his  servant  had  brought 
in  during  his  absence. 

A  ship  had  arrived  with  despatches  from  England,  and  he 
was  opening  the  parcel,  when  an  envelope  lying  near  arrested 
his  attention,  and  he  paused  to  read  its  contents.  It  con 
tained  these  words : 

"  You  said  you  would  meet  me  where  we  could  use  other 
weapons  than  our  tongues.  For  her  sake  I  forbore  then ; 
but  now  she  is  dead,  and  you  killed  her.  If  you  are  not  a 
coward,  I  call  upon  you  to  redeem  your  pledge.  When  and 
where  will  you  meet  FRANK  GREY." 

Col.  Stanley  tossed  the  note  aside,  with  a  careless  laugh. 

"  Any  time  will  do  to  settle  that  business,"  he  said  to 
himself,  and  proceeded  to  read  his  letters. 

One  was  in  a  strange  handwriting,  and  he  opened  that  first. 
It  enclosed  another,  addressed  to  his  wife. 

"  Agnes,  again !  "  he  muttered  ;  and  a  frown  gathered  on 
his  brow,  while  his  lips  grew  pale. 

It  was  from  her  father's  brother,  who  had  gone  out  as  a 
clerk  in  the  service  of  the  East  India  Company.  By  a 
change  of  fortune,  not  uncommon  with  such  adventurers,  he 
had  now  returned,  after  long  absence,  possessed  of  immense 
wealth,  and  a  liver  disease  that  made  it  expedient  he  should 
find  his  relatives,  and  make  his  will  as  soon  as  possible.  He 
proposed  to  give  Agnes  forty  thousand  pounds,  but  he  must 
receive  ocular  proof  that  she  was  alive  before  the  will  was 
made,  and  desired  she  would  immediately  sail  for  England. 


508  AGNE3. 

Col.  Stanley  crushed  the  paper  in  his  hands,  and  ground 
his  teeth  together,  while  a  cold  sweat  stood  in  drops  upon  his 
brow. 

"  Fool !  fool !  "  he  thought.  "  Why  could  I  not  have 
knawu  this  before?  Ten  kind  words  from  me  would  have 
kept  her  alive,  and  the  money  would  be  mine." 

The  second  stroke  was  more  visible  to  mortal  ken. 

It  was  after  the  battle  of  Brandywine.  The  American 
troops  had  retired  from  the  hard-fought  field,  and  a  thick, 
dark  vapor,  mingled  with  smoke  and  dust,  settled  over  it,  as 
if  to  hide  the  scene  of  carnage. 

In  one  of  the  tents  where  the  wounded  had  been  carried 
Percy  Grey  watched  anxiously  by  the  pallet  on  which  his 
brother  lay.  The  night  was  sultry,  and,  as  he  fanned  the 
sufferer,  and  bathed  his  face  and  hands,  Frank  roused  from  a 
half-sleep,  and  asked, 

41  Is  it  you,  Percy  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Thank  God,  you  know  me ! " 

"  Am  I  dangerously  wounded  ?  " 

"  The  wound  is  not  so  bad,  but  you  had  nearly  bled  to 
death  before  we  found  you.  The  doctor  said,  if  you  could 
once  rally,  as  you  have  now,  and  then  be  carefully  nursed, 
you  would  do  well  enough.  I  hope  the  worst  is  over." 

"  That  was  an  awful  charge !  "  said  Frank,  after  a  moment's 
rest.  "  I  heard  Sullivan  shout,  and  we  went  like  a  thunder 
bolt  right  on  to  their  fixed  bayonets.  Heavens  !  we  cut  a 
swath  right  through  them  !  My  blood  was  on  fire " 


RECOMPENSE  AND  RETRIBUTION.    509 

"  Hush,  Frank !  You  must  not  talk.  You  must  not  get 
excited.  Be  quiet  now." 

He  was  silent  for  a  short  time,  and  then,  with  sudden  ani 
mation,  turned  his  white  face  to  his  brother. 

"  Percy,  I  saw  him  break  out  of  a  cloud  of  smoke  and 
dust.  He  was  forming  the  column  again.  I  say  I  saw  him 
—  Col.  Stanley  !  " 

"  Hush,  Frank  !  your  life  depends  upon  being  still." 

"  No  matter  —  tell  me,  Percy,  did  you  see  any  of  those 
lying  near  me  ?  We  all  went  down  together,  and  the  charge 
swept  over  us.  He  knew  me.  I  saw  his  face  change  when  I 
shouted  her  name,  —  he  struck  at  me  as  he  fell." 

"  Do  you  know  what  turned  aside  the  blow,  so  that  it  did 
not  prove  fatal  ?  " 

"No." 

"  It  was  the  visor  of  Agnes'  little  cap,  you  wore  on  your 
breast." 

Frank  closed  his  eyes,  and  his  lips  worked  convulsively. 
His  brother  saw  it,  and  added, 

"  Now  do  be  quiet,  and  try  to  sleep.  Really,  your  life  is 
in  danger  if  you  talk.  The  wound  may  bleed  again." 

11  One  word  more,  and  I  will.  Did  you  look  at  the  men 
lying  near  me  ?  Did  you  see  him  there  ?  " 

"  I  did,  and  he  was  dead !  " 


NOTE. 

A  STORY  drawn  chiefly  from  the  imagination  should  not,  I  think,  be 
introduced  by  a  preface,  —  the  usual  mode  of  communication  between 
Writer  and  reader,  in  books  of  greater  importance.  Rather  should 
the  story  introduce  its  author  at  the  moment  when  its  illusions  are 
passing  away,  and  the  mind  turns  to  ask  how  much  of  reality  has 
been  mingled  with  the  work  of  fancy. 

In  the  present  instance,  wherever  the  tale  touches  upon  the  history 
.of  the  times  to  which  it  refers,  there  is  little  demanding  explanation, 
except  those  portions  describing  Indian  customs  and  manners.  In 
regard  to  these  I  have  followed  the  best  authorities  attainable.  For 
tunately  for  my  purpose,  the  "  History  of  the  Moravian  Missions" 
presents  the  Delawares  in  the  graphic  portraiture  of  eye-witnesses, 
too  sincerely  interested  to  depreciate,  and  too  conscientious  to  exalt 
unduly,  the  character  and  habits  of  those  among  whom  they  labored. 
If  my  conception  of  the  denizens  of  the  forest  is  less  heroic  than  that 
of  other  writers,  it  is  partly  because  I  have  followed  history  rather 
than  imagination,  and  partly  because  an  acquaintance  with  the  actual 
tame  and  prosaic  life  of  our  modern  tribes  has  somewhat  disenchanted 
me  from  the  fascination  that,  to  a  cultivated  mind,  is  inherent  in  the 
idea  of  a  free  and  primitive  existence. 

The  fragments  of  Indian  language  introduced  may  be  relied  upon 
as  genuine.  Where  the  vocabulary  of  the  Moravian  fathers  failed 
me,  I  have  ventured,  tempted  by  the  similarity  of  dialect,  to  supply 
the  deficiency  from  living  lips,  in  the  tribe  with  whose  musical  jargon 
I  have  been  familiar  from  childhood. 

It  is,  perhaps,  due  to  myself  to  state  that  a  certain  episode  in  this 
Btory  was  made  the  plot  of  a  tale  I  wrote  some  years  since,  for  one  of 
the  Philadelphia  newspapers.  M.  L. 


PHILLIPS,  SAMPSON,  &  OO.'S  PUBLICATIONS.  65 

WILL    BE   PUBLISHED    IN   NOVEMBER. 

THE  ILLUSTRATED  GIFT  BOOK  FOR  BOYS  AND  GIRLS, 

Containing  Choice  Stories,  Numerous  Original  Dialogues  for 
School  and  Family  Representation,  New  Pieces  for  Declamation, 
Studies  in  Natural  History,  etc.,  Gymnastics  and  Calisthenics, 
Moral  Examples,  etc.,  etc.  Beautifully  illustrated  with  choice 
Wood-cuts.  Edited  by  Epes  Sargent,  author  of  "The  Standard 
Speaker,"  "The  Standard  Series  of  Readers,"  etc. 

This  volume  forms  an  elegant  octavo  of  384  pages  of  the  size  of  Harper's  Maga 
zine.  It  contains  all  the  popular  original  pieces,  illustrations,  &c.,  that  appeared 
in  Sargent's  School  Monthly,  and  is  handsomely  bound,  forming  one  of  the  most 
attractive  works  ever  published  for  school  and  family  libraries. 

The  great  variety  of  original  dialogues,  new  pieces  for  declamation,  debates, 
etc.,  which  are  here  presented,  render  the  work  one  of  lasting  interest  to  schools. 
The  articles  on  gymnastics  and  calisthenics  will  also  be  found  very  useful  ;  while 
the  new  exercises  for  reading  aloud  will  be  very  serviceable  at  school  exhibitions 
in  lending  variety  and  interest  to  the  performances. 

No  more  delightful  and  attractive  work  for  Christmas  and  New  Year's  presents 
could  be  devised,  as  there  is  something  for  every  taste,  and  enough  to  instruct  as 
•well  as  to  amuse. 


In  one  volume,  8vo.     Price  in  muslin,  $1.25.     fiST  To  any  per 
son  remitting  $1.50,  the  work  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  free. 


READY  IN  NOVEMBER. 
THE  GREAT  GIFT  BOOK  OF  THE  SEASON, 

"HYMNS   OF   THE  AGES," 

Being  Selections  from  the  Lyras  Catholica,  Germanica,  Apos- 
tolica,  and  other  sources,  never  before  rendered  into  English ; 
with  an  Introduction  by  Professor  Huntington,  of  Harvard  Uni 
versity.  Printed  on  extra  cream-laid,  twilled  paper ;  elegant 
steel  engravings,  bevelled  boards,  gilt  sides  and  edges.  300  pp. 

In  their  preface  the  compilers  say,  "  It  has  been  our  purpose  to  bring  together, 
irrespective  of  creed,  and  in  a  convenient  form,  some  of  the  best  sacred  poetry ; 
such  as  contains  quiet  thoughts  for  quiet  hours,  devotional,  comforting,  peaceful. 
*  *  *  If  it  be  true  that  all  along  the  ages,  and  amid  all  varying  phases  of 
belief,  the  human  heart  is  the  same,  and  if  THIS  in  the  hymns  before  us  has 
chanted  its  yearnings,  and  doubts,  and  comforts,  and  heavenward  hopes,  in  one 
great  temple  whose  roof  overarches  all  our  creeds,  need  we  ask  whether  the 
strain  first  stole  from  the  desk  or  the  aisle,  from  monkish  crypt  or  kingly  chapel, 
from  the  soul  of  the  heart-broken  sinner  or  canonized  saint  ?  The  heart  of  hu 
manity  in  its  highest,  deepest  moods  has  spoken  here,  still  speaks ;  and  the  divine 
heart  has  listened,  listens  still,  as  we  believe,  to  these  tender  and  glorious  songs." 
6* 


32  PHILLIPS,  SAMPSON,  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS 

MISCELLANEOUS. 


SUNNY  MEMORIES  OF  FOREIGN  LANDS, 

By  Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe,  author  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cab 

in,"  "  The  Mayflower,"  &c.     In  two  volumes,  12mo.     Illus 

trated  with  66  Engravings,  from  original  designs  by  Billings. 

Price,  in  muslin,  $2  ;  gilt,  $3  ;  half  calf,  $3.50. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  eulogize  the  author  of  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.  The  whol« 
wwld  knows  her.  That  work  —  original,  powerful,  and  startling  in  interest  — 
has  commanded  a  wider  popularity  than  any  effort  of  ancient  or  modern  times, 
and  has  placed  the  author  in  the  front  rank  of  living  writers. 

As  the  originator  and  representative  of  a  new  department  of  literature,  Mrs. 
Stowe  was  invited  to  Europe.  Her  reception  was  such  as  has  been  accorded  to  no 
citizen  of  the  new  world  before.  The  common  people  —  the  whole  people  — 
turned  out  to  greet  the  woman  whose  genius  had  conquered  all  hearts.  And 
hereditary  nobles,  authors,  statesmen,  and  artists,  catching  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
hour,  vied  with  each  other  in  doing  her  honor. 

A  tour  like  this  no  woman,  no  untitled  person,  no  mere  author,  ever  made. 
Whatever  of  interest  Great  Britain,  with  its  ten  centuries  of  growth,  had  to  show, 
was  displayed  to  the  author  of  "  Uncle  Tom."  Hence  these  "  SUNNY  MEMO 
RIES  "  exhibit  pictures  of  English  Life  and  Scenery  which  can  be  found  in  no 
other  book  of  travels. 

THE  MAYFLOWER, 

And  Miscellaneous  "Writings,  by  Mrs.  H.  Beecher  Stowe.  In 
one  volume,  12mo.,  with  a  vignette  title,  and  a  fine  Portrait  on 
steel.  Price,  in  muslin,  $1.25;  gilt,  $2;  half  calf,  $2.25; 
full  calf,  $4. 

"Mrs.  Stowe  is  not  less  successful  in  her  delineations  of  New  England  Life  than 
in  her  world-renowned  pictures  of  southern  society.  "  Old  Father  Morris,"  "  Love 
versus  Law."  and  "  Uncle  Lot,"  bring  the  old-fashioned  scenes  of  by-gone  dayi 
before  us  with  a  power  that  takes  captive  all  our  sympathies.  We  have  known 
item,  strong  men  to  shed  tears  over  the  irresistible  heart-touches  of  the  last- 
named  sketch.  Few  of  these  were  written  merely  to  amuse  or  to  entertain.  A 
warm,  lively  current  of  appeal  to  the  higher  part  of  man's  nature  runs  through 
eren  the  most  sprightly  stories."  —  National  Urn 


BRED,  A  TALE   OF   THE   GREAT  DISMAL   SWAMP, 

By  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe,  author  of  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin," 
"The  May  Flower,"  etc.     Two  volumes,  12mo.     Price,  $1.75. 

A  work  of  extraordinary  power  and  interest,  containing  some  of  the  most 
original  characters,  full  of  charming  pictures  of  scenery,  and,  above  all,  clear  and 


PHILLIPS,   SAMPSON,   &  CO.'S   PUBLICATIONS.  33 

cogent  in  its  reasoning.    It  has  met  with  the  greatest  success  in  the  Old  as  well 
as  in  the  New  World. 

This  work,  the  publication  of  which  was  anticipated  with  deep  interest  on 
both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  has  made  its  appearance  simultaneously  in  Loudon 
and  in  Boston,  and  has  been  placed  upon  our  table  by  the  publishers.  It  is  about 
the  size  of  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  ;  like  Uncle  Tom,  its  scenes  and  incidents  are  from 
the  slnveholding  States ;  and  its  object  is  to  show  up  slavery  in  all  its  bearings,  to 
the  life.  Mrs.  Stowe  does  not  write  merely  for  literary  effect,  although  she  is 
capable  of  producing  a  work  of  art  of  the  highest  order;  and  as  a  work  of  art, 
"Dred,"  in  our  humble  opinion,  will  occupy  a  very  distinguished  place;  but  it  is 
the  moral  bearings  of  the  great  question  of  our  country,  American  Slavery,  which 
have  chiefly  influenced  her  in  the  selection  of  the  subject  of  this  book.  This 
work  will  be  read  by  millions  in  this  country  and  by  millions  in  Europe.  We 
believe  that  its  influence  will  be  wholesome,  morally  and  religiously.  —  Kdigiaus 


IDA  MAY,  A  STORY  OF  THINGS  ACTUAL  AND  POSSIBLE, 

By  Mary  Langdon. 

"  For  we  speak  that  we  do  know,  and  testify  of  that  we  have  seen." 
Fifty-second  thousand.     In  one  volume,  12mo.    Price,  $1.25. 

This  powerful  anti-slavery  work  has  had  a  very  large  circle  of  admirers.  It  is 
temperate,  but  firm  in  its  principles,  and  contains  nothing  that  could  offend  any 
feir,  unprejudiced  mind.  But  it  is  as  a  story  that  it  must  be  judged. 

No  person  can  read  it  without  being  struck  with  the  wonderful  vividness  of  the 
author's  descriptions  of  character  and  manners.  The  dialogue  is  spirited,  dra 
matic,  and  where  negroes  are  introduced,  their  dialect  is  imitated  with  a  fidelity 
that  no  person  yet  has  approached. 


By  the  author  of  "Ida  May."     One  volume,  12mo.    Price, 

$1.25..;-; 

.• 

The  many  readers  of  Miss  Langtlon's  charming  story,  which  met  with  such  a 
flattering  reception  some  years  since,  will  hail  with  pleasure  the  appearance  of 
another  book  from  her  pen.  .  0  __ 

"  Agnes  "  is  in  many  respects  superior  to  the  former  work,  and  is  in  every  way 
worthy  the  reputation  she  achieved  in  her  first  effort. 


34  PHILLIPS,   SAMPSON,  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

CASTE  :  A  STORY  OF  REPUBLICAN  EQUALITY, 

By  Sydney  A.  Story,  Jr.     In  one  volume,  12mo.    Price  $1.25. 

The  title  would  lead  the  reader  to  infer  that  it  has  somewhat  to  do  with  the 
question  of  Slavery ;  and  such  is  the  case  —  its  tendencies  are  powerfully  against 
the  institution.  But  it  is,  nevertheless,  in  the  best  sense,  a  Novel,  and  nof  mere 
ly  an  Anti-Slavery  tract  in  disguise.  The  characters  and  scenes  have  a  vividness 
which  only  genius  can  impart  to  ideal  creations ;  and  whoever  commences  the 
book  will  find  his  sympathies  10  strongly  enlisted,  that  he  will  be  compelled  to 
follow  the  fortunes  of  the  charming  heroine  to  the  conclusion. 

CASTE  is  not  a  "  sectional "  book.  Its  blows  fall  as  much  upon  Northern  as 
upon  Southern  society.  And  while  the  vast  majority  will  read  the  book  for  the 
intense  interest  of  the  iforjv  M  WU>1  awaken  thinking  men  to  a  new  phase  of  th» 
all-absorbing  question. 

MODERN  PILGRIMS  : 

Showing  the  Improvements  in  Travel,  and  the  newest  Method* 
of  reaching  the  Celestial  City.  By  George  Wood,  author  of 
"Peter  Schlemihl  in  America."  In  two  volumes,  12mo. 
Price  $1.75. 

The  idea  of  this  work  was  suggested  to  the  author  by  the  inimitable  "  Celestial 
Railroad  "  of  Hawthorne.  But  in  the  application  of  the  idea  to  the  religious  so 
cieties  of  modern  times,  the  author  is  indebted  to  no  one.  It  is  a  continuous  story 
of  the  pilgrimage  of  some  cultivated  and  piously  disposed  people,  in  which  they 
Visit  in  turn  various  cities,  castles,  and  hotels,  representing  the  leading  religious 
denominations.  But  no  description  can  do  the  work  justice.  It  is  full  of  trench 
ant  satire  upon  life,  manners,  and  opinions ;  and  at  the  same  time  it  has  much  of 
pathos,  which  cannot  but  awaken  sympathy. 

It  is  proper  to  add,  that  the  author  takes  the  same  standpoint  with  honest  John 
Bunyan. 

WOLFSDEN.    A  New  England  Novel. 

In  one  volume,  12mo.    Price  $1.25. 

Eural  life  in  New  England  was  never  more  graphically  painted.  And  such  to 
the  variety  of  incident  and  character  that  every  reader  will  enjoy  its  perusal  with 
»  hearty  relish.  It  is  as  unique  as  Tristram  Shandy. 

COLOMBA ;  A  Novel  founded  upon  the  "  Vendetta." 

Translated  from  the  French  of  Prosper  Merimee.  In  one  ele 
gant  16mo.  volume.  Price  $1. 

A  story  of  Corsica,  of  intense  interest,  and  wholly  free  from  the  prevailing 
faults  of  French  novelists. 


PHILLIPS,  SAMPSON,  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS.  35 


THE  NEW  AGE  OF  GOLD  ; 

•   Or,  the  Life  and  Adventures  of  Robert  Dexter  Romaine.   Writ 
ten  by  himself.     In  one  volume,  12mo.     Price  $1.25. 

No  description  would  give  an  idea  of  this  work  without  spoiling  the  interest  of 
the  story.  But  it  possesses  extraordinary  merit,  both  in  the  plot,  which  is  novel, 
and  in  the  style,  which  is  singularly  animated. 

ENGLISH  TRAITS, 

By  Ralph  "Waldo  Emerson.    In  one  volume,  12mo.    Price  f  1. 

The  many  admirers  of  Mr.  Emerson  will  welcome  this  long-expected  volume. 
The  work  has  not  grown  to  a  large  size  by  the  length  of  time  it  has  been  in 
preparation ;  revision  has  rather  winnowed  it.  The  publishers  confidently  expect 
that  this  will  be  the  most  widely  popular  of  the  author's  books. 

THE  EARNEST  MAN, 

A  Sketch  of  the  Character  and  Labors  of  ADONIRAM  JTJD- 
SON,  First  Missionary  to  Burmah.  By  Mrs.  H.  C.  Conant. 
In  one  volume,  16mo.  Price  $1. 

To  meet  the  general  demand  for  a  Life  of  the  great  Missionary  in  a  more  popu 
lar  form  than  that  of  the  elaborate  work  of  President  Wayland,  this  volume  haa 
been  prepared  with  the  approval  of  the  family  and  friends  of  the  lamented  sub 
ject. 


BERENICE,    An  Antobiographical  NoTel, 

In  one  volume,  12mo.     Price  $1.25. 

The  touching  fidelity  to  life  and  nature  which  characterizes  this  book  wfll  lib 
duce  every  reader  to  suppose  it  to  be  a  veritable  history. 


Caiman, 

EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS, 

In  familiar  Letters  to  Friends.     By  Henry  Colman.    Two  vol 
umes,  12mo.,  muslin.     Price,  $1.50. 

"  No  man  has  had  so  fine  a  chance  to  gain  a  thorough  insight  into  the  life  and 
manners  of  Europe,  both  in  the  cities  and  the  country,  among  the  high  and  low, 
as  has  Mr.  Colman.  He  has  given  us  the  results  in  a  very  fascinating  manner, 
making  one  of  the  most  readable  and  instructive  books  of  travel  we  have  eve* 
read.  It  will  live  for  years." — Democratic  Jieview. 


PHILLIPS,  SAMPSON,  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


LIFE  THOUGHTS, 

Gathered  from  the  Extemporaneous  Discourses  of  Rev.  Henry 
Ward  Beecher.     12mo.,  300  pages.     Price,  $1. 

Most  clergymen  address  special  classes ;  Mr.  Beecher  has  the  rare  faculty  of 
attracting  and  interesting  "all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men."  The  vigor  of 
thought,  and  freedom  of  utterance,  in  this  new  work,  —  its  apt,  and  often  bril 
liant  illustrations,  and  the  earnest  sympathy  it  shows  with  mankind,  as  well  in 
their  common  wants  as  in  their  loftiest  aspirations,  combine  to  make  it  one  of 
the  most  valuable,  as  it  is  one  of  the  most  popular,  of  modern  books. 

A  neat,  compact,  well-printed  volume,  all  alive  with  life  and  thought.  Ilenry 
Ward  Beecher  occupies  a  station  in  pulpit  life  which  no  pastor  fills.  The  esprit 
du  corps  which  so  binds  together  the  ministerial,  as  it  does  eve.ry  other  profession, 
finds  no  support  in  him.  The  Young  America  of  the  ministry,  he  is  ready  to 
assail  the  false  theology  of  the  past  or  the  false  worldliness  of  the  present.  Pro 
fession  has  no  value  in  his  eyes  apart  from  practice.  In  him,  more  than  in  any 
other  man,  the  natural,  impulsive  beatings  of  the  human  heart,  the  love  of  nature 
and  humanity,  are  sanctified  and  elevated  by  Christian  hope  and  knowledge. 
The  whole  book  is  running  over  with  his  own  heart-experience  —  with  touching 
figures  drawn  from  sunny  Nature ;  with  probe-like  puncturings  of  some  vanity ; 
with  earnest  manliness ;  with  beautiful  comparisons. 

It  is  full  of  brilliant  thought  and  genuine  excellence ;  flashing  gems  of  sterling 
merit,  and  mellow  strains  of  poetic  prose,  interwoven  with  pure  philosophy,  in 
perfect  consonance  with  the  teachings  of  divine  revelations ;  together  with  fre 
quent  illustrations  of  such  peculiar  force  and  fervor  as  one  could  ascribe  only  to 
just  such  a  fruitful  imagination  as  that  of  Ilenry  Ward  Beecher.  This  book  will 
not  only  sell,  but  it  will  be  read  and  pondered.  And  whoever  reads  it  will  be 
made  wiser  by  its  perusal,  and  better  by  its  careful  meditation. 

They  are  literally  OEMS  from  Henry  Ward  Beecher's  prolific,  mighty  brain ! 
No  one  ever  heard  Beecher's  natural,  easy,  graceful,  gushing,  noble  eloquence, 
who  did  not  feel  ennobled  by  it,  and  wish  to  hear  him  again.  Those  who  have 
heard  him  need  not  be  advised  to  purchase  this  work,  for  they  are  sure  to  do  so. 
Those  who  have  never  heard  him  should  not  fail  to  obtain  a  copy  of  it,  and  then 
if  they  ever  fail  to  hear  him  whenever  an  opportunity  occurs,  we  shall  be  greatly 
mistaken. 

This  is  a  volume  to  take  up  at  hours  that  come  to  the  experience  of  all,  when 
the  soul  craves  a  glowing  thought,  or  a  tender  word,  and  has  no  desire  or  leisure 
for  a  profound  meditation,  but  is  quickened  and  strengthened  by  the  touch  of 
the  right  chord  under  the  master's  hand.  And  so  this  book  will  be  very  wel 
come,  for  it  abounds  with  such  inspirations,  and  will  find  its  true  niche  in  many 
a  home  and  heart. 

The  scholar  and  the  lover  of  poetry  will  read  and  re-read  it  for  its  beautiful 
imagery ;  the  philanthropist  will  find  continued  stimulus  to  exertion  in  its  active 
sympathy  with  the  welfare  of  mankind,  and  the  Christian,  now  and  hereafter, 
will  catch  a  higher  inspiration  from  its  glowing  piety. 


-ftE-UNIVERta 


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1158  01272  1279 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  L  BRARY   ACILITY 


